


Ghost in This House

by LilithDuh



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018) RPF
Genre: AU, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-11-07 15:57:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20819960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithDuh/pseuds/LilithDuh
Summary: AU. Mary Wardwell has just moved to Greendale after losing everything in her previous town due to an unfortunate religious incident. Zelda Spellman is hiring at her funeral home. When she hires Mary things go awry- but for better or worse?





	1. Chapter 1

_I'm an invisible disaster_   
_I keep trying to walk_   
_but my feet don't find the solid ground_   
_It's like living in a bad dream_

_You make me a ghost_

* * *

Mary Wardwell tossed the deep burgundy duvet to the side and sat up in bed, the morning sun cascading through the shadeless windows of the very old, new to her cottage. She guessed it was around seven in the morning, but she hadn’t unpacked her alarm clock yet and her phone was in the kitchen charging. She looked around the sparse room, the bare white walls feeling nothing like home, and yawned. Maybe with a little decorating it could feel cozy.... maybe.

Slowly, she placed both her feet on the cold hard wood floors, wincing as warm skin made contact with cool planks. She reached her bare arms into the air and stretched her spine, then stood, her loose black jersey pajama bottoms pooling around her slender legs. She grabbed her glasses off the night stand and made a half hearted attempt at patting down her unruly hair before she padded down the hallway, grabbing the robe that hung on the end of her bed as she went. As she made her way down the hallway, more barren white walls staring back at her, she slid her arms into the black jersey robe and shivered. The heating certainly wasn’t up to par in the cottage anymore. She’d have to make it a priority to have that replaced as soon as she found a job.

She’d been in Greendale less than a week and that already felt too long. Of all the places she thought she’d wind up, this wasn’t it. Still, she was thankful her parents had kept their old getaway. At least she had a place to go at all. With a quiet sigh she pulled the small bag of coffee and filters she’d purchased at the super market the night before out of the cupboard and began the very important work of making her morning coffee. Mary couldn’t function without at least one cup of coffee in her. No food? Not an issue. No coffee? She was likely to kill someone.

As the machine began to percolate Mary turned her attention back to the newspaper she’d also picked up at the super market and the ad she’d spotted in the classifieds. She was shocked to see a classified section at all; then again, Greendale consistently stayed about fifty years behind the times. Mary could still clearly recall how much she loathed coming to Greendale for the summer when she was small; she always felt that the town lagged severely behind and stayed dreadfully small and boring. Now maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, given her current circumstances. She sat down on the old wooden bar stool in front of the center island in her kitchen to study the ad more closely, trying to decipher whether she actually had the skills for the position. 

_Spellman Mortuary_  
_Seeking Funerary Assistant _  
_Help wanted immediately _  
_Please inquire in person_

Mary read the ad once through, then read it again. It didn’t give much clue as to what she needed to do, per say, but it was the name that stuck out to her. Spellman. That name had been important once in her realm; perhaps it could be again. She just wished that whomever had written the blasted ad had given some idea as to what the position actually entailed. So much for communication and detail.

Mary rolled her eyes back in her head as she set the paper back down on the beat up butcher block island top and moved back towards the coffee machine. She hadn’t unpacked a single thing yet, so she opted for whatever mug might be left over from her parent’s days in the cottage. Surely there had to be something in the cupboard. Mary opened one door, then another, then another until she found an old, lumpy, horribly hand painted mug she’d made her father when she was young. Why he had kept it she would never understand, but she was grateful for the vessel this morning. She looked it over, her heart sinking a little at the thought of her recently departed father, then set it down on the counter and grabbed the pot of coffee, pouring herself a full cup. Mary delighted in the scent of the warm, dark liquid under her nose as she pressed the cup to her lips and took a sip, too impatient to wait for it to cool.

A satisfied sigh escaped her lips as she swallowed the scalding liquid, unbothered by the temperature, then took her cup into the living room before she realized she had no couch or chairs. “Oh bloody fucking hell,” she muttered under her breath at the inconvenience of it all, then sauntered back to her bedroom to drink her coffee in bed. Hopefully the rest of her furniture would be delivered that day; emphasis on the hopefully. She’d made do for three days with the furniture and clothes she’d been able to bring with her in the haul behind trailer she pulled behind her old station wagon, but she was sick of not being able to unpack anymore or get settled. If life was going to go on, she was ready for it to start.

She wanted to set up her altar, to sit down and pray, to find some inkling of guidance in the mess she had made for herself. She wanted to change her clothes beyond the old jeans and leggings she’d brought with her. It was bad enough she had to go buy a new suit with the limited funds she had so she could appeal to the Spellman’s for a job. She missed feeling like.... herself. So Greendale wasn’t Connecticut, or the coast, but it was at least a shred of home. She swore if she concentrated hard enough she could still catch a whiff of her mother’s perfume in the spare bathroom; still smell the smoke coming from her father’s Cuban cigars on the old screened in porch out back. She already missed the salt from the ocean catching in her hair at midnight, the moonlit walks along the shoreline, her, the community she’d been a part of, her big, old, Victorian house.... there was so much she missed, so much so that even her bones aches, but she wouldn’t allow herself to fall into that hole. Not now. She could make a go of it here. It would be fine. Perhaps the land locked Greendale was precisely what she needed to forget all that- that heavenly life she once knew and loved so well not so long ago.

Mary looked around the room, empty except for her bed, one bed side table, one lamp, and a few boxes of clothes, and sighed heavily. Life as she once knew it was over. She set her coffee cup down on the table and crawled back under the thick duvet, pulling it all the way up over her head. It still smelled like her. She never wanted to wash it. She wanted to keep that scent forever, but it was fading more and more every day. She could keep spraying it with her perfume, but it wasn’t the same. It was her that was missing from it all.

“Damn it, Catherine,” Mary grumbled under her breath as she closed her eyes and folded herself into a ball in the middle of the bed. Not even that was comfortable. Nothing felt truly comfortable without her.

“Fine....” she groaned as she stretched back out and tossed the covers off her body, missing the days where she could simply bury her face in the woman’s wild blonde hair; equally thick and unruly as her own raven locks. “You win. I’m getting up. You’ve even made me hate the bed.”

Mary left her coffee abandoned on the bedside table as she headed for the shower. She had to keep moving. If she didn’t, the tears might come again and she didn’t want that to happen. She’d left all that behind in Connecticut. She wouldn’t sit in Greendale and mourn, too. It was time to start over. Catherine was gone, her coven was gone, her life was gone. There was no use in wishing any of it back. As she waited for the water to warm in the shower she stepped out of her pajamas, then ran her hands over her face as she looked in the mirror. She felt old. She felt tired. She felt like she _looked_ old. For the first time in her life, Mary didn't feel vital or vivacious. She just felt... there. Mediocre. Normal. Perhaps it was the human half taking back over. Her father had warned it would happen one day, though both she and her mother had never wanted to believe it. Was it a direct result of everything that happened back home? She couldn't think about it right now; there was nothing she could do, so she might as well not even worry herself over it. If that were the case she'd have to accept her fate. With Catherine gone maybe not lasting so long wouldn't be a bad thing. It had only been three weeks without her and it felt like an eternity already; did she really want to go any longer than she had to? Mary looked down at the ring on her left hand, then slipped it off and set it on the side of the sink. She was always careful not to get it wet, not to erode it any more than time already had. It was the only thing she had left and if Catherine couldn't last forever maybe that ring couldn't, either.

"Get it together, Mary Elizabeth Wardwell," she muttered under her breath, shivering as she stepped under the water. Heating really did have to be her first priority. Fall would soon turn to winter and she wouldn't survive it if this was how warm her new home was going to stay. She was far too thin and cold natured. Hopefully the post at Spellman mortuary would pay well and she could afford to fix it sooner than later. Hopefully she could afford to fix a lot sooner than later. Mary let the warm water pound against her back as her thoughts wandered- to her appointment later that day, to her new life, to her old one, to how exactly she was going to fix it all, to how badly she really just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep for weeks.

Something would give. Something had to.


	2. Chapter 2

“May I help you?” Hilda asked in a friendly voice as she stood at the front door eyeing the woman in the black pantsuit, her hair tacked softly back on one side. Her raven locks fell in loose curls, her eyeliner perfectly drawn on. Her lips were devoid of color, and so were her cheeks. It looked as though she’d tried, but she simply couldn’t muster an ounce of warmth about her. 

“Ah yes,” Mary said in her most friendly and calming tone, hands clasped firmly in front of her. She was rethinking the black, 40’s style suit in her head. Perhaps black was too much, even for a funeral home. The woman in front of her was clad in flannel- not something she was expecting to come out of the creepy Victorian home. “I’m here about the post you’ve got in the paper for a funerary assistant. It said to inquire in person so I’ve brought around my resume to see if I might be a suitable candidate.”

“Oh, yes, of course! Please do come in!” Hilda grinned from ear to ear as she opened the door wider to accommodate both her and Mary. They’d posted the position weeks ago, but so far no one had shown up. Apparently the Spellman reputation preceded them. “My sister is handling hiring, but if you just wait in our office I’ll grab her.”

Hilda showed Mary to the front room where she and Zelda conducted their meetings and sat her down in front of their desk, then left her there without another word. Mary looked around the room, finding the decorations as odd as the woman’s behavior. Even for witches. Still, she couldn’t complain. She needed a job. Quickly. 

It didn’t take long for Zelda to enter the room, clad in a royal blue, form fitting, vintage Dior skirt suit, her hair twisted back in a French twist on top of her head, heavy pearl earrings dangling from her delicate ears. She immediately took up all the space in the room and Mary found it a little harder to breathe. 

“You’re here about the funerary assistant position?” Zelda asked harshly as she took her place at her desk opposite the woman and pulled out a notebook, “aren’t you a little old to be an assistant?”

Mary bit down on her bottom lip and raised her right eyebrow. She hadn’t expected insults to be a part of the interview process. “I uh- no?” She stumbled over her words, then clumsily handed her resume over to the redhead in front of her. “I’ve been an assistant of some sort for much of my life. I find the work rewarding, and I believe I can handle the funeral industry just fine.” After what she’d seen in Connecticut, no death could phase her. 

Zelda scratched the back of her head with one short, black nail as she looked over the resume, then nodded. “I see you do have quite extensive experience. What brings you to Greendale from uh-Essex? Why such a sudden and drastic change, if I may ask?”

Mary looked down at her lap and spun the ring on her left ring finger with her thumb. She could lie, but there would be no point. They’d find out the truth sooner or later. “Recently widowed... needed a change of scenery. I spent my summers here with my parents and thought I’d give our old cottage and some solitude a try.”

“Hence the wanting to work with dead people,” Zelda smirked, then nodded sympathetically as she realized how off color her comment was, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Mary stared back at her with wide blue eyes, but nodded anyway. “Thank you. Have you had many inquiries for the position?”

Zelda sighed at her question and pinched the bridge of her nose, making no effort to hide her stress. “None at all. Look, if you can start Monday the position is yours. We can discuss salary to ensure what you need and we’ll cover all benefits necessary. We have a full load right now so be ready to learn and learn quickly.”

“I uh, well-“ Mary stuttered again, “benefits won’t be necessary, I can take care of that on my own. I’ll leave my salary requirements for you to look over. They aren’t much.... and Monday is fine, if that suits you I can make it work.” This woman was positively bizarre, even for a Spellman. 

“Wonderful Miss-“ Zelda looked down at her resume to search for her name, but Mary cut her off.

“Wardwell. Mary- please. Call me Mary,” she said with a hint of shyness as she extended her hand for Zelda to shake.

“Mary,” Zelda smiled as she took the woman’s hand in hers and grasped it firmly, “I’m Zelda Spellman, you’ve met my sister Hilda. You’ll meet our niece Sabrina on Monday as well as our cousin, Ambrose. Sabrina does nothing with the business but is in our care. Ambrose does much of the embalming except the difficult cases, which I personally take. You will not often have to be in the embalming room. In fact, much of your work will happen in this room. I need you to assist me with the paperwork and planning of it all. Arrangements, records, that sort of thing. You can handle that?”

“You gave me a job to deal with the dead and immediately tell me I’m dealing with the living,” Mary joked as she rolled her eyes and stood, straightening the silk camisole that hung under her open suit jacket, “yes I can handle that, Miss Spellman.” 

Zelda eyed the woman in front of her, noticing how petite and pale she was. It looked as thought she hadn’t eaten in weeks. “My apologies... I’ll have a better job description for you on Monday, and if you’re good I promise to let you play among the dead from time to time.”

She knew the comment was inappropriate but something in her felt like Mary could handle it. She felt an instant spark with the woman; a kindred spirit, perhaps. 

“Oh, goody,” Mary replied dryly as she followed Zelda’s lead to the front door and allowed the woman to show her out. 

Zelda gave her a pleasant and quick goodbye and shut the door before Mary could get a word in. 

“Weird....” she muttered under her breath as she made her way back to her car. She wouldn’t question it; she needed the job and it sounded like Zelda was willing to pay her whatever she wanted. Ah, how interesting Monday would be.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

_You're the only one who knows my name_  
_ Has the guts to treat me this way_  
_ Calls me out when I cause you pain_  
_ You don't hesitate and you shoot me straight_  
_ You're the only one who knows my name_

_Ooh, I am yours to bear_  
_ You're mine to share my days with_

* * *

* * *

* * *

_Ten years ago _

* * *

_Mary's head hit the pillow as her hands gripped the wrought iron bed rails behind her and a gasp escaped her still perfectly painted red lips. "Catherine-" she groaned breathlessly as the blonde committed wicked deeds between her thighs, reveling in the feel of Mary's warmth. Mary felt her breath hitch in her throat as her lover finally broke contact with her body, lying her head on her thigh with a smirk on her face. _

_"Yes, darling?" Catherine laughed as she reached up to wrap her arms around Mary's waist, tangling her hands in her own unruly blonde mane by accident. Mary shook her head as her senses started to return; first sight, then taste, then touch. She reached down to brush Catherine's hair off her stomach and ran her fingers through the loose curls._

_"I love you," Mary sighed happily as she ran her fingers through Catherine's hair, a familiar thing she'd done thousands of times in their years together. _

_Catherine propped herself up on one elbow to stare at the woman lying above her and grinned; a crooked, mischievous grin. Blue eyes met blue eyes as she raised an eyebrow, admiring Mary's beauty. "I love you too, silly woman. Stay there."_

_Before Mary could protest Catherine had launched herself out of bed and was moving toward the antique bureau they shared, reaching for something on top of it._

_"Catherine Christine Russell get back in this bed RIGHT NOW!" Mary protested, pulling the covers up over her chest and crossing her arms as she sat, leaning against two pillows propped against the bed rails. _

_Catherine turned to face her, her naked form silhouetted beautifully in the candle light, hair hanging down to her waist. Mary loved her hair. It was thick and unruly, naturally curled like her own. The woman had slightly equine, exotic features, highlighted uniquely by the natural blonde hue of her hair. Her blue eyes shone as brightly as Mary's own and were just as intense. There was something ethereal about Catherine, something not quite of this world. Mary often teased her, calling her a succubus and a siren. There was nothing demonic about her love, but there was something just slightly not human about her. Perhaps it was that she was older than Mary; a much more practiced witch. She'd had years to refine her craft before Mary had even come along. Some had questioned their age difference, even for witches, but Mary didn't care. She loved Catherine._

_Catherine rolled her eyes and laughed out loud as she crawled back under the covers and sat next to Mary, something hidden behind her back in one hand. "So impatient," Catherine chided as she leaned forward to kiss the spot between Mary's neck and her ear, sucking softly, "impatient women don't get rewarded."_

_"Don't they?" Mary half gasped, half sighed as she felt Catherine sink her teeth into her neck, nipping at her sensitive flesh, "because this feels like a reward, love."_

_Catherine flashed her eyes at Mary then pushed her back on the bed, kissing down her neck towards her cleavage. She had half a mind to take her again, but she couldn't allow herself to get distracted. She had a question for Mary and she intended to ask it tonight._ _As quickly as she had pinned her down she pulled her back up and backed away from her, one hand still behind her back._

_"My, we're fickle tonight," Mary grumbled as she brushed her black hair out of her face and looked at Catherine, confused, "what's going on honey?"_

_Catherine smiled at the woman in front of her and reached for her left hand, playing with her fingers. "I have a question for you..." Catherine let her voice trail off, still holding the small box behind her. She'd rehearsed it a thousand times. She thought she knew exactly what she was going to say but now that she was in the moment it had all gone out of her head. She felt like an idiot._

_"Ok...." Mary said into the silence, concerned that something was wrong, "Catherine, what's going on?"_

_Catherine pulled the antique wooden box from behind her back and opened it, pulling the equally antique diamond and sapphire ring out of the small box to present it to Mary. "I... had a million different things to say to you. I had this whole speech planned to tell you how much I love you and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Catherine smiled as she blinked back tears, "now I just feel silly. I was going to take you outside so we were under the moon... I've made a mess of all of it but Mary, will you be my wife?"_

_Mary opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. She looked down at the ring and back up at Catherine before her look of shock broke into a wide grin. "Yes, you fool, I'll be your wife," she laughed before she let the woman in front of her slide the ring on her finger, then leaned in to kiss her. _

_Catherine broke the kiss with a heavy sigh. "I forgot the fucking turtle dove hearts," she groaned, then leapt off the bed in search of another box. _

_"Catherine," Mary protested through her laughter, jumping off the bed to follow her, "I don't need the-" Mary ran down the hall to chase Catherine down, "I don't need the turtle dove hearts right now you idiot, get back in bed!"_

* * *

Present Day

Mary rolled over to reach for Catherine, expecting to find her warmth next to her in bed as she danced in-between sleep and forcing herself out of her dream to wake up and unpack the boxes that had finally arrived the day before. It was Saturday morning; she and Catherine had always stayed in bed a little longer on Saturday mornings, taking time to enjoy each other instead of rushing into showers and breakfast and their respective jobs. Catherine had been a well respected instructor at the academy in their town as well as a prominent leader in their coven. Mary taught at the academy as well, but only part time. The rest of her time was spent as an assistant to the high priest; someone she had once admired and respected. Their life was a series of dinners and social events, meetings and unexpected visits from students who looked up to and loved them both.

When Mary felt the cold, empty bed next to her she peeled her eyes open and swallowed hard. Of course Catherine wasn't there. It took everything in her power not to curse the Dark Lord as her heart sank all over again, memories of hear wife's violent death flooding her brain. How could she worship a Lord who- no. She wouldn't do this to herself again. What was done was done. Mary kicked the covers off and closed her eyes, wishing she could return to her dream as she ran her right index finger over her wedding ring and smiled. That woman was crazy, but she could make her happy like no other. Mary had forgotten that Catherine left her in search of the turtle dove hearts. "For Satan's sake you crazy woman," she cursed into the silent air, wishing she could hear Catherine's voice respond to her one last time. 

As she stood she tried to brush the loneliness off. She wished she could call someone- anyone at all - to come help her unpack. She didn't want to do it alone. She had done so much alone in the last few weeks, and she was destined to do so much more alone in the coming years. Life felt so much larger and scarier and more empty without her wife. Things that had once been simple felt complex. Even making meals felt too difficult; Mary couldn't remember that last time she'd eaten a proper dinner. She simply didn't have the energy. 

* * *

Spellman Household

Hilda and Zelda were seated at the kitchen table, Zelda's head buried in yet another foreign newspaper, coffee cup sat next to her elbow on the table. "That woman took the job," she muttered as she read on about a union strike, "she seems quiet enough, I think she'll work out just fine."

"Showed up looking like she'd seen a ghost, poor thing," Hilda muttered as she read her romance novel, "she seemed so sad and...pale."

"Yes well her personal life is none of our business," Zelda snapped as she set her news paper down on the table, folding it in half. She picked up her small cup of espresso and took a sip, eyeing her sister critically, "I mean it Hilda, don't go trying to save a stray. She is here to work, not to join our family."

Hilda sighed in exasperation and set her book down in favor of her own coffee cup. "So what would you have me do, sister? Not speak to the woman at all? She'll be working in our home eight hours a day. Ooh- I've got it, maybe you can take one of your handy little needles and just sew her up on Monday. If her mouth is sewn shut she won't be able to speak at all."

Zelda hated the sound of Hilda's accent when she went out of her way to sound just a tad bit more English for emphasis. It made her want to wrap her hands around her little sister's neck and squeeze until her head popped off. "Or I could take you downstairs and sew yours shut- solve more than one problem at once. Just leave the poor woman alone, Hilda. She's recently widowed, she just moved here, she clearly won't want to spill her life story, for Satan's sake."

Zelda lit a cigarette and picked her paper back up, ignoring her sister. Hilda made a face behind the paper, then stood; clearly their conversation was over, whether or not she liked it. It didn't much matter what Zelda said, anyway. She was too busy at the academy and in the embalming room to pay much attention to what Hilda did upstairs; if she wanted to make friends with the woman she could and her sister would likely be none the wiser. Now, just to spite Zelda, she wanted to. 

"I just think she seemed a little....sad. Bereft. I can't help but be curious what happened," Hilda mused from the stove as she began her morning task of making breakfast for their family. 

Zelda rolled her eyes and dropped her head to her chest, already fed up with her sister for the day. "Hilda, I told you what happened. She's recently widowed," she barked as she slapped her paper back down on the table, "Wouldn't you be sad if your spouse had just died?"

"Yes but how did he-they- die?" Hilda turned to face her sister, one hand on her hip, spatula in her other as pancakes bubbled on the old stove behind her.

"Please don't make me any pancakes," Zelda snapped, sick of her sister's sweet concoctions, "I have no idea how _they_ died. I didn't exactly think it polite to say oh your partner is dead? What happened, freak accident?" Zelda took a long drag off her cigarette and stared her sister down. She hated it so when Hilda automatically assumed that a woman should be married to a man. She'd had a woman in her bed just last night; granted, Zelda had kicked her out long before daylight rolled around, but still. Her sister could be so old fashioned and boring.

Hilda turned back to the stove, ignoring her sister's request. She'd make as many bloody pancakes as she wanted to make. Zelda always wound up eating them despite her protests. "I didn't know what you spoke about Zelda, you could've gotten into it. Most people talk about these types of things... I just wanted to know," she explained, "just seems odd don't you think? She doesn't seem that old... had to be something not natural."

"I don't seem that old and I'm six hundred and forty three years old," Zelda laughed bitterly, "never assume a woman's age. I thought you were smarter than that, Hilda." Zelda finished her espresso and stood to make another, patting her sister affectionately on the shoulder as she passed her. "I suppose only time will tell. I was in a rush on Friday when she came by. We only spoke long enough to see if she was interested in the position. If you're that curious about her I've no doubt you'll get it out of her by the week's end."

Hilda nodded, satisfied that her sister had shown her at least an ounce of love that morning. For all their bickering, the two were closer than any other in their lives. "You know I will," she laughed as she placed two more cooked pancakes on a plate, "Will you please go get those lazy children out of bed?"

"No," Zelda droned as she went back to her paper, "I've already put a spell on them. If they're not up in five minutes they'll have spiders on their faces."

"You're wicked," Hilda laughed, then shook her head. 

"But funny," Zelda smirked behind her paper.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I made Zelda a little sassy.

"So this is where you'll be working," Hilda smiled sweetly as she pointed to the small desk in the corner of the front room that Zelda had set up for Mary, "I know it's small but as your duties grow we'll clear out an office for you- this is just a starting point, I hope you don't mind that."

Mary nodded, a little overwhelmed by how quickly Hilda was speaking of both the position and her supposed future. It was her first day, she didn't need to talk about an entire office and plans for six months down the line. Mary had no idea where she'd be since minutes down the line, much less six months. She fiddled with her wedding ring, trying to channel her nervous energy into something less obvious than biting her bottom lip as she listened to the woman. "This desk will work just fine Miss Spellman, thank you."

"Oh please," Hilda grinned from ear to ear as she patted Mary on the arm, "call me Hilda, there's no need for such formalities. We'll be working together a lot, might as well call me by my first name."

"Alright then, Hilda," Mary smiled and nodded again as she spun her wedding ring around her finger, "please call me Mary."

"Mary, what a lovely name," Hilda beamed as she practically pulled the woman down the hallway and into the kitchen, "would you care for a cup of tea, Mary?"

Mary looked around the kitchen, noticing the tell tale signs that the Spellman sisters were indeed like her. "Ah, sure, that would be lovely, Hilda, thank you." Witches, indeed. Mary wasn't sure when they were actually going to start work, but she supposed that decision was up to Hilda. So far there had been no sign of Zelda or the niece or cousin she'd mentioned on Friday. Mary straightened her black pussybow blouse and rested her hands on her deep burgundy slacks, taking in her surroundings. A full spice rack full of spices no mortal would keep. Too many herbs to count. Bella Donna by the sink; one of them must have insomnia.

"Will your sister be joining us this morning?" Mary asked politely, trying not to make it obvious she was taking stock of their kitchen.

"Ah- Zelda is tied up on some teaching business," Hilda turned to smile from the stove as she set the kettle on the open flame, "'my sister wears many hats. She teaches a few uh- courses at a uh- local academy."

Mary felt her insides twist at the mention of the word academy. Of course the woman was an instructor. She closer her eyes for a moment, Catherine's face flashing behind her eye lids. She wondered if they taught the same subjects.

"I see," Mary did her best to smile. When she opened her eyes Hilda had joined her at the table, "she must be a very busy woman, your sister."

"Oh she is, she is," Hilda mumbled, "so what did you do prior to moving here?" Hilda couldn't help her curiosity; she wanted to know more.

"I uh- I taught, funny enough," Mary smiled, "and I was the assistant to the headmaster. I only taught part time- history- and then the rest of my time was spent assisting in his office."

"That sounds like a lovely job now doesn't it," Hilda beamed back as she stood to take the whistling kettle off the stove and bring it to the table along with a box of tea. "And forgive me, my sister, she mentioned you were widowed. Was your partner a teacher as well?"

Mary bit the bottom of her lip hard and nodded as she stared at the tea cup in front of her. She couldn't mention the things Catherine taught and wasn't certain it was safe to mention she had a wife and not a husband. She could never be too sure in good old Greendale. "Yes my uh- yes. My partner taught as well. At the same school."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Hilda sighed, unsatisfied with the answer she'd received, "and I'm sorry for my manners. I shouldn't be asking such things, forgive me."

"Yes, please do forgive her, Mary," Zelda's voice came from the side door as she set her purse on the counter, "sometimes my sister forgets her professionalism, especially when she manages to get someone in our kitchen."Sabrina skulked behind her aunt, clearly in trouble and in a bad mood. "You, young lady, up to your room. I'll be up shortly to deal with you."

Sabrina let out a long whine then escaped from behind her aunt Zelda, kissing her aunt Hilda on her way out of the kitchen. She stole a glance at Mary and smiled at her, then she was gone. Mary's heart warmed a little at the mischievous look in the girl's eye, but cooled when she saw the sour one in Zelda's.

"What's happened with Sabrina, why are you two home early?" Hilda asked timidly, almost afraid of the answer.

"Sabrina," Zelda sighed as she moved across the room to gather a tea cup for herself from the cupboard. She still had her rain coat on, slicked with water from the storm still raging outside the house, "has gotten into another tiff with Prudence and Father - Faustus has asked her to plead excuse herself until she can control her behavior. He's agreed to cover my classes for the day while I sort our niece out. He'll sort his daughter out this evening and we will meet in the morning- IF Sabrina can agree to behave herself." Zelda let out a long sigh as she sat down at the table and poured herself a cup of tea, "I'm sorry, Mary. These are the dangers of working for a home business. Home drama."

Mary chuckled at the woman and shook her head, "it's no bother Zelda, really, I'd much prefer the school drama of a teenager over my own any day."

"Now have you had a chance to learn anything or has my dear little sister only quizzed you on your life?"

Mary shook her head again as she took a sip of her tea, "no, no, Hilda has been quite helpful this morning. We've been over death certificates, how you store your files for arrangements, and your actual filing system. I think if you're alright with it I can get started filing the things in the front study this morning and then start on the stack of death certificates you need completed this week."

"Praise Sa-" Zelda cut herself off with a faked cough. She wasn't accustomed to having to hide her true nature, but if they were going to have someone working in their home she at least needed to pretend to be polite for a few weeks.

"It's alright, Zelda," Mary said quietly, "you can say praise Satan." She was too tried to keep up a charade. She didn't care if the women were witches. She didn't want to discuss that she was one, but she didn't care that they were, "I know you exist in Greendale. It doesn't bother me."

Zelda nearly choked on her tea and Hilda nearly spit hers out. "What do you mean we exist?"

Mary raised an eyebrow and sat a little straighter in her chair. Was Zelda really going to play a full fledged game of pretend with her? "Forgive me, perhaps I shouldn't have been so forward so quickly. I won't tell a soul; I was... I was practically raised her. I know I may seem an outsider but I'm not. I just don't want you be uncomfortable on my account, that's all."

Zelda looked the woman up and down, appraising her. She suddenly liked her less. "I assure you, no one can make me uncomfortable in my own home. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to change and get downstairs, Ambrose is overloaded in the embalming room. If either of you need me you may send Hilda to fetch me."

Silently, Zelda excused herself from the room, then Mary felt Hilda's hand on her own. "Don't let her get to you, love. She can be a bit.... harsh... sometimes."

"It's fine," Mary smiled back at Hilda, but pulled her hand away. As lonely as she was, she didn't want to be touched by these women. "I understand. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll get to work on that filing?"

"Oh, of course," Hilda sighed. Why was Zelda so hell bent on being nasty to absolutely everyone who came into their home? Hilda watched Mary walk away, then made her way upstairs to her sister's room.

"Did you have to be so rude?" She shouted as she swung the door to Zelda's bedroom wide open. Zelda was standing at her dresser clad in her bra and skirt, her shoes kicked to the side.

"Do you MIND?" She shot back as she turned around to face her sister, covering her chest with her arms, "have you ever heard of knocking before entering ones private space?"

"Oh stop it, I've seen you naked a million times," Hilda rolled her eyes as she shut the door and sat down on her sister's bed. Zelda raised an eyebrow and watched her sister carefully as she looked around her room. She hadn't exactly cleaned up from her company the night before.

"Could you not be so nosy, please?" Zelda spat as she unzipped her skirt and carefully slid it down her legs, then set it on top of her dresser to be rehung, revealing her black lace garter belt and matching underwear. She bent over to search for a pair of leggings and an oversized black sweater, her preferred apparel for the embalming room. She wouldn't allow a living soul beside her family and, she guessed, now Mary, to see her in the modern get up, but it was comfortable for the work she had to do.

"Why is your underwear so fancy for a Monday?" Hilda teased her big sister. She already knew that Zelda was seeing someone at the academy, but refused to miss an opportunity to give the woman a hard time.

"Did you come up here to scold me about Mary, to talk about the fact she knows we're witches, or to be just plain annoying?" Zelda chided as she unsnapped her garter belt, rolled her stockings down, and placed them on the dresser atop her skirt. She threw her sweater on over her head and pulled her leggings up her slender legs, then pulled her hair into an elegant pony tail as she watched her sister in the mirror of her dresser.

Hilda looked at her sister's night stand in horror, then turned back to face her sister, wishing she had just listened and not looked around the room. "I don't- I- well first I was going to ask if you could maybe be a little nicer to her and then I was going to ask how you think she knows that we're...."

"Witches?" Zelda asked in the mirror as she removes her earrings and placed them in a small bowl, "I don't know, but I don't like it and I don't trust her."

"Oh Zelda I'm sure she's just fine, she was just trying to make us feel comfortable!" Hilda pleaded as she stood up from her sister's bed, "why must you always be so... dramatic about these things?"

"You have a new job," Zelda groaned as she moved toward her bed to toss the toy her sister had been staring at in her drawer, "stay OUT of my room when I haven't invited you in, and find out if the woman is a witch."

"Oh, well, I hadn't considered that," Hilda said seriously as she followed her older sister out of her bedroom. Hilda always delighted when Zelda was dressed for the embalming room. She looked positively modern and posh; except for the rubber clogs she wore on her feet. Those were just ridiculous.

Zelda looked back at her sister as they walked down the stairs. “Well now you have. Figure it out.”


	5. Chapter 5

_That Friday_

Mary sat in the middle of her living room floor, glass of whisky at her side, as she sorted through photos and frames. She still hadn't hung anything on the walls, but had finally begun to place things on the floor where she thought she might want to hang them. A black and white photo of her and Catherine sat on the table by the couch, one from their handfasting, arms around one another locked in a kiss. It hurt to look at, but hurt worse not to see a shred of the woman anywhere in her house. Mary picked up the crystal high ball glass and took a long sip as she stared down at the photos surrounding her; a lifetime of memories reduced to paper. There was the one of Catherine smiling up at her in the snow. Catherine had been so mad at her that night; she hated the snow, hated the cold, but Mary had made her stay out in it with the students throwing snowballs and laughing for hours. It took Catherine a hot bath, a cup of tea, and at least two hours to warm back up to a normal temperature. There was the one of her on a beach in Scotland, standing on the edge of the north sea staring out at the ocean. Mary had snapped the photo before her wife had a chance to protest. There were hundreds of them clad in ball gowns and cocktail dresses at social functions and coven events, friends of the library fundraisers, breakfast at their favorite bakery, sunset boat rides with friends. Catherine had ushered her from girlhood into womanhood, from friendship into love over the last twenty seven years of her life. Mary was by all means a young witch- only in her 50's to Catherine's over 200 years when she died. She hadn't expected to fall in love with the woman, her professor at the time. They were friends for a long, long time before they were lovers, much to Mary's chagrin. 

A rap at the front door pulled Mary out of her reverie and she jumped, nearly spilling the liquid in her glass all over herself and her beloved photos. She pushed her glasses up her nose and wrapped her dark gray cardigan around her thin frame as she stood, wondering who on earth could be at her door. No one even knew she was in town, much less where she lived. She looked down to examine her paint splattered leggings and loose camisole and sighed. "Oh well," she muttered, using her cardigan to cover as much of her front as she could. Her long hair had been straightened and hung in layers around her face. She looked out the peep hole of the locked door to see Zelda Spellman on the other side, clad in the same black frock she'd been wearing at the mortuary earlier in the day. 

"Zelda- how can I uh-" Mary said nervously as she opened the door wide enough to say hello, but not wide enough to let the woman in. It was nearing winter and getting cold in Greendale. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but it would soon enough. She _should_ let the woman in, but she'd been cold and, quite frankly, rude all week. "How can I help you?"

Zelda did her best not to shiver outside, wishing she had thought to grab a coat. "You forgot your paycheck today. I didn't want you to be without it," Zelda lied, holding the check behind her back. The woman wasn't due to be paid for another week, but she was willing to change the pay schedule permanently if it got Zelda the answer Hilda had failed to get all week. Zelda didn't feel safe having Mary in the house with her knowing they were witches if she wasn't one. It was just that simple.

"Oh, I thought I didn't get paid until next week," Mary smiled politely, then opened the door wider for Zelda to come in, "excuse me, I'm so sorry. Please come in, and please excuse the mess. I'm still unpacking." She gestured to welcome the woman into her cottage and Zelda obliged, stepping into the doorway.

Zelda glanced around the room, immediately spotting the sage in a dish on the island and the photo of Mary and a woman on the side table by the couch. It could be a cozy place when she was done with it if she did it right. The sage was a promising sign. "No, I'm sorry for barging in, I shouldn't have come uninvited," Zelda's tone softened as she spotted the photos on the floor- hundreds and hundreds of photos of Mary with the same blonde woman in the frame on the table. 

"That's alright, I appreciate you bringing it by," Mary said softly as she followed Zelda's eyes to the floor, "Sorry about the mess. I was just sorting through some photos. Deciding what to hang and what to put away."

"Hang them all, they're beautiful," Zelda smiled up at her softly, then shook her head, shaking herself out of the moment, "Is that your wife?"

"Ah, yea, Catherine," Mary nodded as she looked down at the pile, "she was a mess, that one."

"Looks like a pretty mess," Zelda said honestly as she bent down and picked up a photo, examining the blonde in a pile of snow. "You two made a handsome couple."

"Thank you." Mary looked at the photo over Zelda's shoulder, then sighed, "would you like a drink, Zelda? All I have is whisky and red wine and tea, but I can make you a cup of tea if you'd like."

"oh, uh, whisky is fine," Zelda smiled, then followed Mary into the kitchen and set the photo down on the island, "thank you. I really didn't mean to interrupt you. I don't have to say for a drink."

Mary stood on her tip toes and reached up to grab another glass out of the cupboard, then poured more whisky into both of their glasses. "No, honestly, the company is nice. It's been a long week out here alone if I'm honest." Mary slid the glass of whisky across the island to Zelda and held her glass up to cheers, clinking glass against glass. "To new bosses."

"To new employees," Zelda smirked as she clinked her glass against Mary's and took a sip, then fingered the sage in the bowl. "Smudging the cottage to rid yourself of bad spirits?"

"Something like that?" Mary laughed as she sat down on the bar stool across from Zelda and crossed her legs, fiddling with her ring again, "I find sage comforting. It's always been one of my favorite cleansing techniques. I thought I could use the extra good juju."

"Juju?" Zelda raised an eyebrow at the ridiculous word, "witches don't use words like juju."

"Who says I'm a witch?" Mary looked at her innocently as she crossed her arms over her chest, challenging her playfully. 

Zelda looked her up and down and cocked her head to the side, sizing her up. "I guess you don't have to be, sage has become trendy amongst mortal teenagers but you don't exactly strike me as the type to run up to the local store and grab yourself a bundle for social media's sake."

"You didn't strike me as the type to even know what social media was," Mary laughed, then took another sip of her drink, "Yes, I'm a witch, Zelda. I know that question has been burning in the back of your mind all week. Or, at least.... I was a witch I guess. I'm not anymore, I don't think. I don't know. I'm not sure." At that, Mary moved away from the counter and back to the living room to gather the photos of the floor. She sat back down in the middle of them and began stacking them carefully to place them back in their boxes. She could deal with them in the morning, but she didn't want to have that conversation with Zelda. She didn't know what she was anymore, or where she belonged. She wasn't excommunicated, per say. She left on her own. She'd renounced them. 

Zelda gave her a moment, then followed her into the living room and took a seat on the edge of the aged leather couch. "What do you mean, you don't know if you're a witch anymore?" 

"I....don't know. It's complicated," Mary sighed as she continued to stack and store photos, "I've left my coven. I don't really... it's a long story." Mary wished she hadn't left her whisky in the kitchen. She suddenly felt the need to take several shots. She could feel Zelda's eyes boring into her back.

"I have time if you'd like to tell it," Zelda said gently. She didn't know why, but she felt a certain affection blooming for Mary. Seeing her in her home, surrounded by her photos had changed something. She was a real woman with a real story- and quite a deep love, or so it seemed. At least a deep loss. "If not, I understand."

Mary swallowed hard and bit back the tears. She hadn't spoken about Catherine at length since she left Connecticut. She wasn't sure she could even do it. She felt all the loneliness and anger bubbling back up in her chest. Zelda was her boss, but she was also a sister of night. "I... I am not sure I would even know where to begin," Mary said softly as she turned to face the woman on the couch, her eyes misty. "I don't know for sure how to tell you what happened, except that it was both ordained and the most horrible thing I've ever seen."

"Sometimes those things go hand in hand, Mary," Zelda said seriously as she sunk to the floor to sit closer to the woman, tucking her legs underneath her so she could sit as properly as possible in a dress. "I... forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but it sounds like you've suffered a horrible loss quite recently. If you need to speak with someone... you can speak to me." Zelda was first and foremost devout and she couldn't stand to see another witch suffer.

Mary looked down at the photos of Catherine, then back up at Zelda. The women had many similarities; Zelda's poised nature and tendency to turn cold had immediately reminded her of her wife, almost to a point of disgust. "Thank you, Zelda," Mary muttered as she squeezed her eyes shut and the tears rolled involuntarily down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm still adjusting to life alone in the woods," she laughed through her tears, "It's a lot to be alone out here I guess."

Zelda stood and walked to the kitchen so she could grab the glass of whisky that Mary had left abandoned on the counter. "No need to apologize. I spend a lot of time alone, I understand. Sometimes you need a friend," she smiled as she handed her the glass, then sat back down on the floor and began organizing the photos with the woman. "When did you meet your wife, Catherine?"

"She was my history professor," Mary smiled as she set the whisky down on the floor, "I was twenty three and...she was not."

"So you're a young witch," Zelda smirked as she studied a photo of Catherine and Mary on a beach, clad in bikinis, heads thrown back in laughter, "a very young witch."

Mary nodded silently, "Yes, I am." She took the photo from Zelda's hand and looked It over, then laughed, "my thirtieth birthday. She insisted we go away. We had only been dating about nine months. She asked me to move in with her that weekend. I told her she was insane, but I agreed. We never spent a night apart after that."

"Never?" Zelda was amazed. She couldn't imagine ever spending every night of her life with anyone. Ever. 

"Never. If she went on a trip, I went with her, and I likewise. I guess we just enjoyed each other," Mary mused as she tossed the photo into the box, then picked up another. "This was on a ski trip to the alps. She broke her leg that weekend. I told her she couldn't ski and she was determined to prove me wrong. She did not prove me wrong. She hated the snow. I don't even know why she wanted to go."

"Because you loved the snow, I presume," Zelda laughed as she finished her whisky and studied the photo.

Mary watched Zelda as she studied the photo, a strange feeling taking hold in her heart. She had never thought of it that way; that Catherine had insisted on so many things simply because she loved them. She'd always thought her wife was just stubborn. "Yea, I guess she did... I do love the snow. I always have."

"You seem like the type," Zelda grinned, then put the photo back in the box, "I hate the stuff myself. I'd much prefer to be inside the moment it gets cold."

Mary rolled her eyes as she stood and headed back to the kitchen to refill her glass. She watched Zelda for a moment as she took a long sip of her whisky, then refilled it again. "You sound just like her. I had to drag her outside the moment it got cold, which was hard considering how far north we lived. More whisky?"

Zelda contemplated the idea for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and helped herself off the floor. "Why not," she nodded as she headed back to the kitchen with her glass. For the first time in a long time, Zelda felt relaxed. "How did you wind up in Connecticut if your parents were from Greendale?"

Mary stole the whisky glass from Zelda's hand and poured her more to drink, then handed it back to her. Finally feeling the flush of the liquor, she pulled her cardigan off and dropped it by the sink, revealing her toned arms in the loose fitting camisole. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and tied it up with the holder that had been on her wrist and pushed her glasses back up on her nose. "Sorry, the whisky just hit me," she laughed quietly. "My family is from Essex, where I lived until recently. We actually lived in my parent's house up there as well... this was their summer cottage. My mother had family here, so we spent our summers visiting. I quit coming down when I was in high school. I was on the drill team and stayed busy through the summer, so it was an excuse to stay up north. Then I went to school at a very small institution where Catherine was teaching not far from home and she.... found her way back to Essex, I guess you could say."

"Back to Essex or back to a raven haired school girl?" Zelda laughed, feeling a little less inhibited herself. 

"Hey now, hey-" Mary chided playfully, wagging a finger at the redhead in front of her, "It wasn't like that. I didn't date my professor while I was in school. I had to seduce that woman for years."

"How long was this plight while you pined after your teacher?" Zelda laughed out loud, feeling the effects of the whiskey a little more. It was nice to laugh with her new employee. It was nice to laugh with anyone.

"Oh, years. Really," Mary said seriously as she held the bottle up and Zelda nodded, accepting another pour, "I met her at twenty three, finally started dating her at.... twenty nine? We moved in together when I was thirty. Now I'm fifty."

"So you were with her, really, for twenty seven years?" Zelda nearly spit her drink back into her glass. Six hundred and forty three years and twenty seven still seemed like an eternity to spend next to anyone. 

"Well, twenty one if you don't count the six I spent chasing her skirt," Mary laughed, "but yes. She was around for much of my life. I guess that probably doesn't seem like much to you, but it does to me. Maybe it won't one day."

"I think it probably always will. She was important." 

Mary waited for Zelda to add on to her sentence, or to say something funny, but the woman didn't. She simply stared at her, the glass of whisky balanced at her lips. Finally, Mary looked away, downing the rest of her glass. She didn't want to feel it; she didn't want to think about how important Catherine was and always would be. 

"She was... but I've got to put that behind me. What happened.... happened. And it had to happen," Mary said seriously. "There was nothing I could have done differently."

Mary moved away from the woman sitting at her kitchen island and faced the stove, the sick feeling in her stomach returning. She turned a burner on and placed the kettle on top of it. If she was going to keep drinking whiskey, she had better have some tea with it. She couldn't think about that night without seeing Catherine's dead eyes staring up at her from the floor of the church, a look of horror on her wife's face. Catherine hadn't wanted to go through with it. She knew she had to; she'd been called to the task by the Dark Lord. She wouldn't turn her back on her Coven or refuse to fulfill a duty ordained by the being she worshipped, but they had tried every possible angle to get her out of it. Mary had begged and prayed and begged again. She'd asked Catherine to run away with her. She'd asked the high priest to pardon her wife. They'd fought, they'd screamed at each other, they'd made love until their limbs were numb. And then Mary watched her die at the hands of her own coven. 

"It was the feast of feasts," Mary blurted out over the whistle of the kettle, "Catherine was called as queen of the feast." 

Zelda felt her own heart sink as she recalled her own recent experience with the feast of feasts. She would have sooner ripped her heart out of her own chest than let her niece be sacrificed, Dark Lord be damned. "Oh, Mary," she said quietly, "Satan be damned... I am so sorry."

Mary turned to her, tears burning in her eyes again, "I watched them tear her apart and revel in it. They laughed and sang and feasted on the flesh of my wife in front of me. I just...I'm sorry, I shouldn't be speaking about this," she swallowed, trying to regain her composure.

"No, no," Zelda did her best to comfort her from her spot at the bar, "I told you that you could talk to me. I understand...we had our own issue with the feast of feasts."

"It is a horrible rite, and it should be outlawed," Mary did her best to bite back a sob, "there was no reason for her to die other than our high priest said she should." Mary leaned against the counter and closer her eyes, feeling weak in the knees at the memory. Zelda moved towards her and wrapped an arm around her to hold her up, worried that woman would hit the floor if she didn't. 

Mary turned to her, resting her head on her shoulder as she sobbed with abandon. "there was no reason for it, Zelda, none at all," she mumbled between deep, heavy sighs as she tried and failed repeatedly to regain her composure. It was too late; the dam had broken and there was no going back. Every emotion Mary had held in for the last week was finally escaping- all over her bosses nice black dress.

"It's alright Mary, it's alright," Zelda cooed in her ear as she held the woman and rubbed her back, not dissimilar to the way she had held her own sister and niece many times. "Just let it out."

Mary stood and sobbed until she couldn't breathe, all of the strength leaving her body as she leaned against the redhead in the middle of her dimly lit kitchen. Perhaps the whisky was a bad idea. Perhaps letting Zelda in a was a bad idea. Perhaps it was exactly what she needed; she didn't know at this point. After what felt like hours, Mary lifted her head and pulled her glasses off her face to wipe her eyes, hoping her mascara wasn't pooled like a raccoon's mask. "I'm so sorry," she muttered quietly, feeling utterly defeated."

Zelda turned off the burner to the stove, forgetting the idea of tea, then led her to the couch and sat her down, then sat down next to her, resting a hand on her forearm. "Please...please don't apologize for that, Mary." The compassion in Zelda's voice was unlike anything she had heard from the woman before; she hadn't known Zelda long but she had only ever heard harsh tones, cold tones. Those of a woman who was sure of herself and who had locked the world out.

"You don't deserve to have someone you've just met blubbering all over your very expensive clothes," Mary sighed as she leaned back into the couch and pulled her legs into her chest, "I promise I'm not insane, it's just been a very rough few months."

"I would say that's the understatement of the century," Zelda laughed as she leaned over the table to grab a tissue and hand it to Mary, "I understand pain. Trust me, I understand pain. I just wish there were something I could say to you to make it better."

"There's nothing," Mary groaned as she wiped her eyes with the tissue, then blew her nose, "I don't know where to go from here. With my life, with my religion, with any of it. To see something like that done to someone you love, and to see it done with such joy by people you once trusted- it makes you question everything."

Zelda thought for a moment, then put one finger to her lips. "Thanksgiving is coming up....what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Mary laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question, "nothing at all."

"Alright, well," Zelda continued to think, "we don't do much- but why don't you spend it with us? We have a simple meal. I watch football. It's quiet but... you won't be alone. You'll be amongst friends."

"Friends," Mary thought out loud, then nodded. "Sure, that sounds nice."

The two sat in silence for a moment, staring down at what was left of the photos spread across the floor of the living room, as Mary continued to collect herself. Friends. That was a nice thought to consider. Maybe Greendale would be survivable after all. 

As Mary continued to sit on the couch in a ball, Zelda moved to the floor to collect the rest of the photos, placing them carefully in the boxes. When that was cleaned up she look back at the woman and frowned, "will you be able to sleep tonight?"

"I'm exhausted... and embarrassed."

Zelda reached up to rest a hand on her knee and smiled softly, wishing she could make the woman feel better. "The embarrassed part you need to let go, but I'm glad you're tired enough to sleep. Why don't I get out of your hair? You can go crawl into bed and I'll come around to check on you tomorrow."

"You don't have to do that, Zelda," Mary said seriously as she stood and moved toward the kitchen to clean up the whisky and put the glasses in the sink. She felt horrible for her outburst. "I'll be alright."

"I know I don't have to, but I'd like to if you'll let me. I can...help you unpack if you'd like. You've got to be bored, doing it yourself. I can bring my niece, too, if you'd like."

The thought of having help did appeal to Mary; being home alone day after day had gotten boring and lonesome. "you really don't have to be nice because you feel sorry for me, Zelda. I'm a big girl, I'll be alright."

"Don't take kindness and turn it into an insult, Mary," Zelda warned as she grabbed her purse, then smiled, "I'm only kind when I genuinely want to be. If you'd rather be alone you can say that, but if you'd like the company we can come around tomorrow around noon time."

Mary contemplated the idea, then nodded. "Alright...noon sounds good.... thank you."

Zelda nodded her approval, then reached for Mary. It felt foreign, somehow, to hug the woman, but it also felt perfectly right. Mary melted into the woman's embrace, accepting her affection without any pretense. "You're very welcome, Mary Wardwell. I mean it," Zelda said quietly as she held her close for a moment, then let her go. "Get some rest, and we'll see you tomorrow."

Mary nodded as she opened the door for Zelda, then watched her walk down the lane of her cottage and get into her car. She wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but for the first time in weeks Mary felt a renewed sense of hope. A lot of sorrow, but also hope. 


	6. Chapter 6

_Twenty two years ago _

* * *

* * *

_Mary sat in the corner of the couch, tucked safely against the arm, sipping her glass of red wine as she stared at Catherine in the chair across from her. She'd had many dinners at the woman's house in the four years since she'd become her student and graduated, but tonight felt different, somehow less.... innocent. _

_"You're staring again," Catherine laughed under her breath, then uncrossed her legs as she adjusted herself in the leather club chair. Mary had kept her eyes on her all night, like a little lost lamb searching for her shepherd. Catherine would be lying if she said she didn't like it, but she wouldn't ever let Mary know that. She'd called the young woman over to work. They, so far, hadn't gotten any of that done; opting instead to catch up on Mary's summer in Scotland, her new position at the academy, and how she planned to continue her studies in history...and a very long game of undressing one another with their eyes. _

_Mary shifted on the couch and looked down into her wine glass for a moment, then set it down and picked up the history book sitting on the table in front of her. Maybe if she had a book in her hands she could concentrate better on their work instead of the neckline of Catherine's silk blouse. She'd always loved Catherine's button up blouses, which she never buttoned high enough. "I am not staring. You were talking, I was paying attention to what you were saying, for satan's sake Doctor Russell."_

_"Stop calling me that," Catherine laughed again and rolled her eyes as she she kicked her stilettos off and stood up, "look, I'm sick of these clothes. I'm going to go change into something more comfortable so we can actually sit down and get some work done. Why don't you get set up? We can sit at the bar or down here at the coffee table."_

_Mary nodded as the woman sauntered out of the room, squeezing her shoulder as she crossed behind her to walk down the hallway. As soon as Catherine was out of earshot Mary let out a long sigh and kicked her own shoes off, then slid off the couch and on to the floor. The coffee table would do just fine, and she could sit closer to the woman that way. If she couldn't touch her, at least she could be near her for the next few hours while they work on their book; a collection of essays on witches who had contributed to the formation of their religion but who had been persecuted as trouble makers and villains. She would write an encyclopedia of worms if it meant she could keep visiting Catherine's house; any excuse to stay near the woman worked for Mary. As she waited for her to return she straightened her hair and adjusted her sweater, then opened her notebook and began to make notes, her mind wandering to the woman changing upstairs. What did her bedroom look like? Into what was she changing? What, pray tell, had she had on, under her skirt and blouse?_

_Mary was pulled out of her thoughts as she heard Catherine's foot steps approaching behind her, then felt the woman's nails in her hair. "You moved far, Mary had a little lamb," she teased as she pulled a few strands of hair gently through her nails, then let them go. Mary's entire body erupted in chill bumps at the feel of Catherine's hands on her scalp and she closed her eyes but tried not to react beyond that. Surely the woman knew what she did to her. _

_"I figured it was easy enough to spread out here," she smiled as she grabbed her glass of wine and downed the remainder of its contents in one swallow. Now that Catherine was no longer her professor her safety net was gone. Catherine was simply a woman to whom she was deeply attracted. There was no pretense to their relationship anymore; nothing holding them back except that Catherine hadn't said yes. _

_Before Mary could ask Catherine took her wine glass back to the kitchen and refilled it. Upon her return she was holding a plate of chocolates, grinning as she set it down on the table between them. "It's not fancy, but it'll do while we work." She offered the young woman her glass back and sat next to her, immediately throwing her leg into Mary's lap. Mary inhaled sharply, not expecting skin to connect with skin. She hadn't even noticed that Catherine had put on a pair of short sleep shorts and a loose fitting white tshirt until she felt her bare leg in her lap. _

_"How am I supposed to get any work done if I'm holding your limbs up?" Mary asked playfully as she rested one hand on Catherine's knee, not daring enough to move it up to her exposed thigh. _

_Catherine quirked her eyebrow upward and smirked mischievously as she bit into a chocolate and shrugged. "You're the one who's making me sit on the floor with my old bones. I'm just trying to get comfortable." _

_Mary rolled her eyes but didn't move her hand. Catherine didn't object to it being there; in fact it almost seemed as if she had somehow leaned into it. Maybe Mary was imagining things.... or maybe not. Mary watched carefully as she took a sip of her own wine and opened the old journal on the table in front of her. The younger woman was positively distracted, but tried to make it seem like she was working as she scribbled down a few notes with her free hand. As the two worked in silence, alternating between taking notes and sipping their wine, Mary worked up the courage to stroke Catherine's inner thigh with her thumb. She could feel her heart pounding so hard in her chest she thought it might break through her rib cage and escape, but Catherine didn't protest._

_Slowly, Mary worked her hand further up Catherine's thigh to rest against the hem of her tiny shorts. As she made the move she stole a glance at the woman who had closed her eyes and was now licking her lips as she inhaled deeply, clearly enjoying the feel of the younger woman's hands on her body. Mary dropped the pencil she was holding on the table so she could focus more fully on her actions under it, now fully enraptured by the view of her former professor in her pajamas. _

_"Mary..." Catherine groaned, eyes still closed as she felt the younger woman shifted closer to her, hand snaking ever closer to her center. _

_"Yes, Dr. Russell?" Mary whispered in her ear as she adjusted herself so that Catherine's leg was no longer balanced on her lap but that she was straddling the older woman, two fingers stroking the delicate skin where her pelvic bone met her hip._

_"We're...." Catherine made no effort to stop the young woman, "supposed to be working on the book" she muttered as she opened her eyes and stared back at her, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. Mary was struck by the intensity of her look and she froze in place, suddenly unsure of what to do. She'd dreamt of this moment thousands of times; she'd imagined this scenario more than she cared to admit. Now that it was actually happening she couldn't believe it. _

_"We can stop if you'd like to," Mary said calmly, suddenly backing away from Catherine. Mary felt so young and silly. Catherine was older, beautiful, sophisticated. Who was she to think that a woman like Catherine would want someone like her? _

_Catherine frowned at the sudden absence of Mary's hands on her, then leaned in and pulled the woman back to her, kissing her hard on the lips. "Supposed to-" she muttered between kisses, "and actually - are - two - different - things."_

_Mary allowed herself to melt into Catherine's embrace, immediately opening her mouth to deepen their kiss. Her hands wandered restless over the woman's body, hungry to feel every part she'd wanted to feel for the last five years. One made its way up her shirt to cup her breasts and unsnap her bra while another hugged the supple curve of her ass and pulled her closer, closer, closer. Catherine moaned into her mouth and Mary closed her eyes, almost unable to believe it was finally happening. _

_"My bedroom," Catherine muttered as she pulled away from Mary momentarily to catch her breath and clawed at the zipper in the back of her dress, "now." Mary obliged the demand, only separating herself from the older woman long enough to stand before lips were on lips again and Catherine was slamming Mary into the wall of the hallway, pressing a bare thigh between her legs. Gone were the sleep shorts she'd intentionally put on to drive her former student crazy. In their place remained a pair of white lace panties and the white t shirt she'd thrown on. Her bra had already been discarded somewhere in the living room and Mary's dress was half off her body, revealing a red silk bra. Catherine liked the way the young woman looked in red. Perhaps a little too much. _

_Mary smiled against Catherine's lips and pushed her wild blonde hair out of the way to get to the woman's neck. She trailed her tongue across the delicate space between her ear and collar bone, eliciting dirty words from the professor's mouth as Catherine made quick work of ridding Mary of her bra. Catherine forced herself to break contact with Mary to pull her the last few feet down the hallway to her bedroom and pushed the young woman on her bed, pulling her dress the rest the way off her body and tossing it across the room before she joined her. _

_"Well now that isn't fair at all," Mary stuck her lip out in a pout as she crossed her arms over her bare chest, now only clad in the red silk panties that matched her bra. _

_"What isn't fair?" Catherine smirked as she trailed a finger up one of Mary's thighs and teased her center through her underwear. Catherine felt the stirring in her core as Mary's lips parted and she gasped. If Catherine was honest, she had wanted Mary for years, too, but she wouldn't allow herself that relationship with a student. She had noticed the prolonged stares, the sideways glances, the absolute tension. Catherine had imagined this very scenario so many times in her own head; just what it would feel like to touch Mary and feel how wet she was, to know that she was the one who had caused it. _

_"You have too much clothing on," Mary did her best to protest as her thighs opened a little wider, granting Catherine the access she so desperately wanted. Catherine raised an eyebrow as she looked the younger woman up and down. She didn't care about herself; all she wanted to do was devour Mary. _

_"Ah..." she laughed, then pulled her t shirt over her head. "Better, my dear?" _

_Mary wasted no time in pulling Catherine to her as she sucked an already taut nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip, her hand wandering down the length of her stomach to tease the edge of her panties. She wanted- no she needed- to feel Catherine right now. As she kissed and sucked one nipple and then the other, Catherine's low moans like music to her ears, she slid two fingers under the hem of her underwear and circled her clit, teasing her sex playfully. _

_"Fuck," Catherine groaned as she bit her bottom lip and tugged at Mary's underwear to pull them off. Mary lifted her hips to help her, then kicked them off her legs. _

_"Lie down," Catherine ordered as Mary attempted to do the same to her. Mary tried to protest, but Catherine grabbed her arms with one hand and pinned them above her head. _

_"Catherine," Mary snapped as she glared up at the woman, annoyed that she'd taken away her fun, "I wasn't done."_

_Catherine adjusted herself so that she was sitting between Mary's legs, hips bucking gently into hers, and smirked. "Oh, we're nowhere near done, my darling. I want to feel you right now," she half whispered, half moaned as she felt Mary's body against her core, "then I want to taste you." _

_Mary closed her eyes as Catherine leaned forward, hips still bucking into hers, and peppered kisses down her chest and across her torso. Slowly, she made her way across her left hip bone, her tongue leaving a wicked trail of temptation. Mary reached for Catherine's hand and squeezed it as the woman made her way closer to her center, kissing her pelvic bone. Then, slowly, surely, Catherine began to unleash her wicked magic on Mary's body. _

Present Day

* * *

Mary was forced out of her day dream by the sound of her door bell ringing. Given her level of distraction, she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Bloody fucking hell," she cursed under her breath as she shook her head and her thoughts of Catherine out of her mind. She hadn't thought about their first night together in years. With company coming, and with the things those thoughts did to her, she wished she hadn't thought about it at all. "Get it together, Mary," she sighed as she rubbed her palms on the leggings she was wearing and headed to answer the door.

"Hello Mary," Zelda smiled pleasantly from the stoop, the same young blonde girl Mary had seen in the kitchen over a week ago now at her side, "this is my niece, Sabrina."

"Pleasure to meet you, Sabrina," Mary smiled as she stuck out her hand for the girl to shake, "I'm so very sorry your aunt made you come along today to do this."

"Oh it's no bother at all, really," Sabrina beamed as she took the woman's hand and gave it a firm shake, "I like painting and unpacking! If it's alright with you a couple of my friends could come help and we could have your whole office painted today!"

"Well I-" Mary opened the door wider for the women to come in and held out an arm to take their coats, "I don't see why not if you'd like the help, the more the merrier." Mary had missed having a house full of teenagers. She was used to having kids come and go; that was one of the things she missed the most about Connecticut and her life with her wife. They were always taking in stray kids; wayward witches who had been suspended from the academy, young mortals who needed after school help. Mary loved having children in her home.

"Yea no, it'll be great, Roz and Harvey already said they could help and you'll love them Miss Wardwell! And then you can start decorating your office so you can start writing again soon."

"Well," Mary laughed as she pulled her hair into a ponytail and fastened it, "I guess I should show you where the paint is, then." Mary was taken aback by how much the young woman already knew about her; she supposed Zelda must have spoken to her family.

Sabrina nodded and followed closely behind Mary as they made their way to the attic of the cottage, the room Mary would turn into her home office. It was stuffy up there, so Mary opted for a pale green to paint the walls to liven up the place and make it seem larger than it was. With exposed brick on one wall and wooden beams running the length of the ceiling, it already had a lovely charm to it. Mary exchanged a look with Zelda over her bubbly niece's head as they set up the paint cans and rollers, working quietly to start.

"So I've texted them and they're on their way," Sabrina smiled as she slipped her phone into the pocket of her sweater and grabbed a roll of tape to begin taping the walls. "We've got this room if you and Aunt Zelda want to go work on something else."

"Did you just kick her out of her own office?" Zelda asked, horrified. "Honestly Sabrina, manners."

"No," Sabrina muttered sheepishly, "I was just trying to be helpful..."

Mary laughed out loud and shook her head, "I swear if I didn't know any better I'd think you two really were mother and daughter. Tell your friends to come hungry. Zelda why don't you and I go fix some lunch, then we can work on my bedroom while the kids take this room?"

"If that's what you'd like to do," Zelda nodded, then followed Mary out of the room and down the stairs back to the kitchen. "You look better today," she dared as Mary began pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator for grilled cheese sandwiches. She'd been to the store early that morning and had tomato soup simmering for hours already. After her meltdown the night before she was determined to make a better impression today.

"I feel a little bit better," she said honestly as she pulled out the cast iron skillet she had only recently unpacked and placed it on the stove. Methodically, Mary laid out fourteen slices of bread; enough for two sandwiches each for the kids and one for she and Zelda and began to spread herbed butter on one side of each slice. "It's not any easier today than it was yesterday, but I think telling someone about it took a little bit of the power away. I felt like I came to Greendale with this big, horrible secret and telling you was a relief."

Zelda watched her carefully, taking note of the clearly made from scratch ingredients that Mary was using. Last night the woman had nothing in the house and today she was like Martha Stewart. She couldn't help but wonder if cooking was one of her pastimes. "I'm very glad to hear that, Mary. Truly. It's a relief to know it was a help and I didn't make things worse.... what is in that butter?" Zelda made a face as she inspected the bread a little more closely.

Mary chuckled as she watched the redhead, clearly out of her element; wondering if _she _could find her way around a kitchen. "I gather cooking isn't one of the duties you share with your beloved sister, Zelda?"

"Satan, no," Zelda laughed as she dropped the bread back down on the cutting board, "never could do it, never wanted to do it."

"It's not so bad. It's fun if you've got the right teacher," Mary said patiently as she spread butter on the last piece of toast, "this is herbed butter. I like to take plain butter and churn it with herbs so it's whipped a little softer and more flavorful for things like soup and grilled cheese, or for cooking meats and things of that sort. It makes the process a little easier when you're ready to cook something that needs that flavoring."

"You know you can use a spell for flavoring," Zelda said seriously as she stares the witch down, slightly confused.

"Yes but.... I'll teach you one day. We can make a pie or something," Mary smiled as she pulled out a block of cheese and began slicing to assemble the sandwiches.

"How about I drink wine while you make a pie... or something?"

Mary shrugged her shoulders but couldn't hold her laugher back at how ridiculous Zelda was. For such a formidable woman she had some funny hang ups. "If that's the way you want it. You stick to bodies, I'll stick to paperwork and dessert."

Zelda shrugged her shoulders and smiled, relieved to see the woman laughing. She was still pale, the color drained completely from her face, but it was encouraging to see her eat something. This was, in fact, the first time Zelda had seen her eat a single thing since she'd met her. Why Zelda had grown to worry so much for her she didn't know. One night of tears usually didn't make this much affection blossom in her heart, but Mary was different.

"I would ask you if you'd like help but I think we already know better than that in this particular room," Zelda teased. "What will we be doing in your bedroom?"

The mention of her bedroom immediately took Mary back to her day dream, but she pushed it out of her head. That was one she felt she _shouldn't _share with Zelda, or anyone, for that matter. No, that was one she would treasure on her own. "I'm thinking of painting it a deep midnight blue. Something relaxing. I just can't stand all these white walls."

"Midnight blue, that sounds lovely," Zelda nodded, "and then you'll be able to get that room unpacked and settled, that's a good idea."

"Yea.... settled..." Mary pondered the words as she moved to her crock pot to stir the soup. What could that really mean now that Catherine was no longer here? She didn't mean to be so pathetic. She knew she was a woman in her own right, a witch in her own right. She has hundreds of years left to live on her own; to write books, to continue their studies- her studies. She knew that. But Mary didn't _like _being alone. Sure, the occasional night here and there was fine, but she didn't enjoy the act of solitude. She liked a house full if people; of family members and friends coming and going like her front door was the entrance to grand central station. She wasn't meant to be a creature that lived alone in the woods, waiting for the random visitor to take pity and stop by. She felt more herself today than she had in weeks.

"Mary, are you alright?" Zelda quizzed the woman as she kept her back turned to her, focused on her silly _cooking._

"Yea, Yes, just thinking, about that word. Settled. Feels weird to settle here alone," Mary mused as she turned back around, "our old house was full of nooks and crannies, not unlike yours. This one just feels so.... plain, I guess. Full of.... not history."

Zelda watched Mary for a moment as she held the spoon, still covered in tomato sauce, and leaned against the counter. She felt for the woman; she couldn't imagine the turmoil she must be going through. "You could always rent this place out and buy something else.... there are plenty of old Victorians up near where we live. No one wants them because no one wants to keep them up."

"I know, I know," Mary sighed sweetly, "problem is I'm not sure I really want to keep one up either."

Zelda rolled eyes and tossed the kitchen towel that was lying on the island at Mary's midsection, then went back to sitting comfortably while Mary picked it up and laughed. "Well now that's a problem, Mary. Perhaps you should stay put for a little while until some of this storm passes, and then decide what you want."

"That's the pla-" Mary's sentence was interrupted by a knock at the door, then Sabrina bounding down the stairs to answer it before Mary could even move. Mary expected Sabrina's friends to come in immediately, but they hovered outside the front door chatting, looking in a window occasionally, then going back to their conversation.

"Her mortal friends," Zelda sighed as Mary began the work of heating the sandwiches in the cast iron skillet, "I worry that she won't let them go, but.."

"I had plenty of mortal friends in Connecticut. Good thing too or I would've really lost it when Catherine died," Mary commented casually as she flipped a sandwich easily, then turned back to Zelda, "would you be a love and grab me that apron by the fridge please?"

Zelda blanched at the term of endearment, not used to anyone being so casually affectionate with her, but nodded anyway and got up to retrieve the garment for her friend. Zelda's mind wandered to a kitchen far away from this one, back in Connecticut, to what it must have been like for Catherine to sit and watch Mary cook for hours on end as they exchanged sweet glances and affectionate remarks. She felt a hitch in her chest and swallowed hard, then handed Mary the apron without saying another word.

"Zelda you alright?" Mary asked as she tried the apron around her slender waist and pulled it over her head.

Zelda couldn't help but smile at the sight of the woman; the stupid thing said "kiss the cook".

"That.... you..." Zelda bit down on her lip to keep from bursting into laughter, "I'm going to tape your bedroom, I'll see you when lunch is ready."

Zelda made her escape down the hallway, relieved to be away from the woman. Oh Satan this couldn't be happening. Mary Wardwell was in no shape to be with another person right now; Zelda could not, _could NOT _be developing any sort of feelings for her.

"No...." Zelda muttered to herself as she grabbed a roll of blue painters tape, then pulled her own hair back into a ponytail. Surely it wasn't that. Zelda was just a sucker for a pretty young woman, and Mary certainly was that. She was nice, on top of it. That's all it was. There was nothing genuine there.

No, nothing genuine there at all.


	7. Chapter 7

_Two years ago_

_Mary laughed out loud as she watched Catherine pout across the island of their kitchen, lights dim in the dark winter evening. "I told you to keep your filthy hands off the food," she chided as she turned away from her wife and pulled another pie out of the oven to cool, "you can eat as much as you want tomorrow, but not tonight."_

_"These mortal holidays are for fools," Catherine sighed as she crossed her arms and sat, defeated, on a high backed leather bar stool. She'd agreed, hesitantly, to host this silly Friendsgiving party Mary had cooked up in her brain, but only because her wife had seemed so excited about it. Now Mary had been cooking for two days and she wasn't allowed to touch any of it? She didn't like that part of the deal at all. "This is the worst holiday you've made me celebrate so far, Mary Elizabeth."_

_"Oh you'll be fine, Catherine Christine," Mary drawled back as she went about whipping more cream and storing it in Tupperware containers, wiping her hands on her apron occasionally, ignoring her wife altogether as she pouted on the barstool with her glass of wine._

"_Is your dad coming?" Catherine mumbled as she gave up on eating, turning her attention instead to a magazine in front of her, flipping through it half heartedly._

_"He'll be here tomorrow," Mary smiled as she placed the last Tupperware container in the large, stainless steel fridge and closed it behind her, then slipped the apron off of her and discarded it on the counter, "so you two can keep each other entertained giving me a hard time while I finish up and cook on Thursday."_

_Catherine noticed the apron and smirked; Mary must be done for the evening. "Why on earth would we give you a hard time, my darling?" she asked innocently as she stood and wrapped her arms around her wife, placing one gentle kiss on her cheek._

_Mary looked her square in the eyes and pursed her lips, making her disapproval known as she returned the gesture and hugged her wife back. "Because you live to give me a hard time?"_

_"Oh I do not," Catherine laughed as she rested her head on Mary's shoulder, then stole a quick kiss. "You smell lie pie," she mumbled as she nuzzled her nose in the younger woman's neck and buried her face in her hair, purposely trying to seduce her._

_"Well my love," Mary yawned as she ran her hands down Catherine's back, her fatigue hitting her like a brick wall. She lifted one arm over her wife's shoulder to rub her eye and yawned again, wishing she could take a shower and crawl into bed, "I have been baking pies all day."_

_"You smell good enough to... eat," Catherine mumbled in her ear, ignoring the slight as she ran her hands down her wife's back, running a long, manicured red nail along the hem of her jeans. She wanted Mary to perk up and pay attention to her; she'd done nothing but focus her attention on cooking and cleaning for the last three days and Catherine was starting to feel the boredom settle in the pit of her stomach._

_"Mmmm....." Mary half sighed, half whined as she felt the older woman's lips on her neck, teasing the skin behind her ear. She closed her eyes and subconsciously tilted her head to allowed her wife better access to her neck for a moment, stifling a yawn as she tried to get lost in the feeling. "Maybe you can have me for dessert... tomorrow. If you promise to behave and eat all your dinner."_

_Hands suddenly in the air, Catherine pursed her lips and retreated from Mary's side, a pathetically sad look crossing her face. "Fine..." she huffed as she pivoted on her heel and turned her attention back toward her wine glass, playing up the dramatics for her wife's amusement._

_"So mistreated....truly neglected," Mary laughed and shook her head as she walked down the hallway towards their bedroom and the refuge of a hot bath and bed. Catherine would find her before long, crawl in bed beside her, and let her sleep while she held her. Mary loved her for that._

Present day

Zelda tossed one dress aside, and then another as she debated on what to wear in the antique mirror situated at the foot of her bed. Clad in just her bra and garter belt, strawberry blonde curls popping over alabaster skin and dancing over her collarbone, she wondered if she could get away with hosting thanksgiving in her underwear. She returned to her closet and thumbed through her skirts one more time when the thought hit her; of course- she had the perfect dress to wear. She'd pull out her vintage Dior fit and flare dress, saved only for special occasions. It fit her like a glove, it was comfortable, she got compliments every time she wore it.

As she thumbed through her closet to reach the dress in its bag at the very back of the rack she chided herself; why did it matter what she wore? It was family and a few friends. Not even a few friends. Just... one friend. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, pulling the dress out anyway. She'd pair with one of her many beloved antique brooches and that would be enough that she didn't have to wear a scarf or other heavy jewelry while she was at home. She could wear her hair down; for all intents and purposes, a dressed down day for Zelda Spellman.

Zelda removed the dress from its bag and slid it up her legs, careful not to to snag her silk stockings with her nails. Her thoughts wandered to Mary; what she might wear, what she might bring. Mary, except for when she was at work, had shown herself to be quite casual. Well tailored pantsuits with a vintage flare, pencil skirts, high necked sweaters; she'd seen all those in the front room of her own home as the younger woman filed papers and filled out death records Monday through Friday for the past few weeks, but when Zelda caught her at home she was often in leggings and sweaters, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, glasses perched on her face. Zelda would be lying if she said she didn't like the pencil skirts, but she preferred Mary's look at home when the threat of sleep was just behind her eyelids as they sat up talking late into the night in her kitchen.

"Stop it," Zelda chided herself out loud as she reached behind her back to zip her own dress, then smoothed her hands over her hips. She wouldn't allow herself to think of Mary Wardwell in such ways; she wouldn't allow herself to be so soft. Zelda sighed as she heard the doorbell ring downstairs; that would be woman of the hour now, right on time as usual. The redhead looked herself over in the mirror one more time and nodded, satisfied with her appearance, if not her attitude. She'd have to get a handle on the latter, but for now Mary Wardwell was standing, she imagined, just inside her front door holding a pie, or cookies, or some such other dessert to share with her family as a well intended but misguided hostess gift. She'd just.... make it through the day, then have a stern talking to with herself about her feelings later that night when she could be alone. That would have to do.

Zelda rushed out of the room and halfway down the stairs, then gave the appearance of a calm, collected demeanor as she spotted Mary in the entryway, clad in a pair of jeans and a black turtle neck, her hair falling loosely in curls around her face, her makeup flawlessly applied. It was the first time Mary had color in her face since Zelda had met her. She almost looked... healthy. Not quite happy yet, but a little more alive than usual. As suspected, she was holding a perfectly baked chocolate pie.

"Mary, you shouldn't have," Zelda smiled as she reached the bottom of the stairs and reached for the pie, immediately handing it to her sister so she could air kiss both of the younger woman's cheeks.

"It was no bother," Mary smiled as she reached for Zelda's hand and gave it a firm squeeze, "I figured Sabrina and Ambrose would enjoy it and baking pies was a bit of a tradition in our house. Felt weird not to do it."

Zelda let her hand linger in Mary's for a second too long, sparking a look from the brunette. Mary watched her for a split second, wondering what caused the sudden affection from her friend, but she let it go. Probably just the holiday and the fact that Zelda knew she was having a hard time.

"They'll be full of pie and nothing else if I know those two," Zelda rolled her eyes to try and cover for herself as she folded her hands against her stomach, "can I get you a glass of wine? We were all just sitting in the kitchen while Hilda finishes up with the Hors d'oeuvres."

"Uh, sure," Mary smiled as she followed behind Zelda. Hilda had already disappeared back into the kitchen with her pie, leaving the two women to their own devices in the front of the house. "When do your famous football games start? I still can't believe you watch football."

"All contact sports," Zelda smirked as they entered the kitchen to Ambrose and Sabrina stuffing an array of snacks into their mouths at rapid pace, "slow down, both of you, or you'll make yourselves ill. Honestly, it's as if we never feed the two of you."

"All contact sports?" Mary laughed as she waved at Sabrina and Ambrose and took a seat at the table, her eyes trailing Zelda's backside as she stood on her tiptoes in her heels to fetch a glass for her wine. Mary caught herself and looked down at the table, a pang of both guilt and embarrassment shooting through her stomach. "Even like... hockey?"

"Especially hockey," Sabrina chuckled as she reached for her own glass of hot apple cider, opting for a break from the full plate in front of her, "and don't get her started on rugby. She'll stand and scream at the television. Aunt Zelda loves a good fight between half naked men."

"I'd happily watch a fight between half naked women," Zelda quipped quietly as she poured Mary a glass of wine. She felt a little defensive at the assumption her niece made, but let it go, trusting that Mary heard her comment. "Here you are, Mary. Please help yourself to anything you'd like in the kitchen. There'll be piles of food all day, I hope your jeans expand."

Mary laughed at the unexpected casualty of her bosses comment. It had caught her off guard; that this woman who was usually so formal and guarded, who was wearing a formal business dress to family thanksgiving would make such a joke. Zelda was an anomaly, not unlike Catherine. She was hard and cold and formal until she melted in your hands at the most unexpected moment. She was harsh and judgmental until she loved you unconditionally. She was distant until she wanted to hold your hand. If Mary wasn't careful, Zelda was exactly the type of woman she could get herself in to trouble with.

"Oh... I guess I better behave, they do not," Mary smirked as she stole a chip out of the crystal bowl in front of her and dipped it in a smaller bowl, taking note of the positively normal food the Spellman household had provided for the holiday.

The day wore on with laughter and stories and two solid football games that caused near coronaries for Zelda both times. They talked and watched and ate and few of them even napped. By the end of it Mary was glad she had been included, but she was ready to get home to her cottage to sit with her memories for a little while. She felt a little guilty, but the happiness almost made her miss her family more. She was honored to be included in the Spellman family traditions, but she missed her own; the way her father had always smoked cigars on the porch despite her complaints against it, the way she and Catherine has always fallen into bed to make quiet, exhausted love after everyone had gone home. Now, at least, she could go home and think of her.

"Thank you, again," Mary smiled as she held the empty pie dish in one hand and hugged Hilda and Zelda with her free and, "this was a wonderful day."

"Think nothing of it," Zelda smiled back at her as she squeezed her forearm, "you're welcome here any time, Mary."

Mary nodded and headed out the front door to her car while Zelda headed immediately upstairs to her room to change. She wasn't interested in waxing poetic with her sister on how the day went or how lovely it was to have had Mary in their home. She needed to set her head straight. Immediately.

Zelda closed the door to her bedroom and unzipped her dress, tugging it off her shoulders as she sighed heavily. What had she been thinking? Mary had done nothing but speak about Catherine all day long. The woman was still in so much pain, she was still so broken, it wasn’t remotely funny. There was no getting through to her. Zelda had to stop this little infatuation, and quickly. She dropped her dress to the floor and I snapped her garter, carefully rolling her silk stockings down her legs so she didn’t snag them with her nails. Next, her bra. She unsnapped it behind her back and let it slide down her arms, opting for the black silk nightgown hanging on the bedpost. She’d make some tea, do some meditations, pray. That would set her straight.

Suddenly, there was a noticeable chill in the room and Zelda knew she wasn’t alone. Trying her best to disguise any ounce of fright, she turned slowly, using her arms to cover her chest in the scant night gown. When she turned, there was nothing there but the ghost of a feeling. A bad one.

“Mary,” she grumbled as she rushed back to her drawers and grabbed a pair of leggings and her black sweater, typical for the morgue. She didn’t much care at the moment; she didn’t know what it was, but she needed to get to Mary right away. She grabbed for her bra on the bedpost and redressed quickly, throwing her hair into a ponytail. Half dressed with her sneakers tied sloppily, Zelda avoided the mirror as she rushed out of her room. She’d be mortified if anyone saw her, but something was wrong. Call it intuition, call it a guiding spirit. Perhaps it was Catherine.... but she knew she had to get to Mary’s house, and fast.

Without a word to her sister or niece as she rushed past them in the living room, Zelda flew out the front door of the mortuary, car keys in hand.

Sabrina looked back and spotted the faintest image of a blonde woman, hair falling down around her shoulders, chasing just as quickly after her aunt. She watched carefully as the.... thing... ghost? Spirit, perhaps slipped through the door behind her aunt Zelda, looking her dead in the eyes before she disappeared into the night. Her stare, just as icy and blue as Mary’s, felt like both a comfort and a warning.

Sabrina took heed and didn’t say a word, instead turning silently back to the television and her aunt Hilda’s company. Surely Zelda would call if she needed help. It’s not as if she was going to wrestle the devil himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Zelda gets the crap kicked out of her in this chapter but I promise you I could never kill Zelda! I just needed it for the draaaaama.

Zelda banged frantically on the door of Mary's cottage, not caring whether the woman was already in bed. "Mary, Mary! Let me in!" She shouted as she continued her steady knocking, then peered through the window. She could see a young brunette seated opposite the woman and a chill ran through her core. 

Mary got up and answered the door, a wild look in her eye. "Zelda what on earth?" She asked as the redhead pushed past her into the room, immediately confronting the young woman in the living room.

"Who are you?" Zelda demanded, clutching the chunk of moonstone in her hand. She hadn't even known she'd grabbed off her dresser when ran out of the house. A small rock; it was her mother's. Perhaps not the most useful thing for fighting evil forces, it still brought the woman comfort in times of trouble. "What are you doing here? What do you want with Mary?" Zelda felt breath on her neck, cold and somehow lifeless. It was the same presence that had been with her in her bedroom; chilling but at the same time comforting. She'd deal with that later; for now, she welcomed it. 

"Ah, Zelda Spellman," the young woman grinned a wicked grin, surprised at the sudden turn of good luck, "who better to show up but the girl's own family."

"Family," Zelda muttered cluelessly, then risked a side glance at Mary, "who are you? What do you want?" She wished she could signal for Mary to run. Whoever this woman was, she was dangerous and Mary was far too young a witch to deal with her. Zelda stared the woman down, standing her ground as she felt the fear mounting in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she was too dangerous for Zelda to deal with, too. 

"I've come to guide your sweet niece into her full.... potential," the witch laughed, her voice changing from its pleasant tone to one more sinister as a pair of scissors lifted themselves from Mary's knitting basket, now unpacked and situated on the side table by the couch, and pointed themselves in the direction of Mary's body. 

"Run," Zelda commanded as she launched herself in the way of the scissors, catching them with the soft side of her palm as the chunk of moonstone dropped to the floor. She groaned as they burrowed themselves through her hand, slicing delicate flesh and muscle, while Mary escaped out the front door. Zelda went weak in the knees and hit the floor from pain, but began reciting banishing spells under her breath anyway. She had no idea if they'd do any good, but she had to try. 

The woman blanched at her chants, the words seeming to physically hurt her but not forcing her out of the house. Whatever she was, she was more powerful than Zelda. The witch in front of her screeched; a low and guttural sound that sent painful chills up Zelda's spine. She turned to go, not because she had to as a result of Zelda's power but because it seemed as though she were done playing for the moment. 

"This isn't the end, Zelda Spellman, only the beginning," she grinned as she moved closer to the woman and took the scissors by the handle, twisting them in a full circle in her hand. Zelda closed her eyes and bit down hard on her tongue as she tried not to scream out in pain, the woman nearly wrenching her shoulder of socket as she shredded her hand. 

As quickly as she had appeared, the woman was gone, leaving Zelda alone in the cottage. Zelda breathed deep, trying to focus her thoughts on anything but her hand with the scissors still wedged through it, bleeding profusely on Mary Wardwell's hardwood floor. At least Mary had gotten out... hopefully. But what would she do now? Summon her sister? She supposed that would work; that was her only option. First, she had to get the scissors out. Then she had to stop the bleeding. She already felt light headed; too weak to do it magically. She'd have to do it by hand and deal with the pain. Slowly, Zelda stood up and moved to the kitchen, holding the hem of her sweater underneath the wound in an effort not to make a mess of Mary's entire house. Once she had reached the kitchen sink she wrapped her uninjured hand around the handles of the scissors and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she prepared herself to yank them out of her hand. She fought back tears at the thought of the pain she was about to bring on herself, but she had no other option. She'd forced Mary to run; she'd come here to save the woman without any idea from what, exactly, she'd been trying to save her. 

With one swift pull the scissors were out of her hand and in the kitchen sink. Zelda shrieked from the pain, but controlled herself so she didn't scream. She was afraid too much noise might bring that thing back. "Fu- gah," she mumbled under breath as she reached desperately for Mary's kitchen towel, wrapping it in vain around her now freely bleeding wound. As her vision blurred she leaned over the sink on her elbows, trying to steady her body. She needed to sit or she was going to pass out. Slowly, Zelda sunk to the floor and rested her back against the kitchen cabinets, wrapping her hand in the towel and her sweater to apply as much pressure as she could. She needed help, but she was too weak to summon it. Surely Mary would be back soon. She couldn't have gone very far, right? Maybe she went to get Hilda; that would have been the logical thing to do. Perhaps Zelda should have instructed her to do that. It was too late now, she thought, as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the cabinet as she thought of her sister. Maybe if she thought about her hard enough, she'd know she needed her. It had never worked before in nearly seven hundred years.... but there was a first time for everything, right? Slowly, Zelda faded out of consciousness, slumping over on the floor of Mary's kitchen, her grip on the towel going slack as sleep took her over. Blood continued to dampen and warm her black sweater, escaping the gaping wound in her hand. Both Zelda's radial and ulnar arteries had been severed; without help, she wouldn't stop bleeding, and she wouldn't wake up.

That hadn’t been what Lilith intended, but it was a hell of a consolation prize for her rude interruption. That should teach the woman to mind her own damn business next time. If there were a next time.


	9. Chapter 9

Mary tiptoed cautiously back into the house, fearful of the scene waiting for her. It was eerily quiet; there wasn't a spare grunt or breath in the whole main floor of her home. Where had they gone to? Had that creature taken Zelda with her? Mary peered into the living room and saw the overwhelming abundance of blood on her hardwood floors; from Zelda, no doubt. 

Before she did anything else, Mary reached for her purse by the front door and retrieved her cell phone, quickly pulling up the number for Spellman mortuary. As soon as she heard Hilda on the other line she cut the woman off with a desperate plea, "Hilda, its Mary Wardwell, please come quickly. There's been.... an incident involving your sister at my house." 

Before the other woman could argue she hung up the phone, and that's when she spotted it. One lily white hand, limp on the floor behind her island. "Dear Gods," she mumbled under her breath as she rushed into the kitchen to find Zelda splayed on the kitchen floor, her eyes closed as if she were sleeping. Mary squeezed her eyelids together, trying to force the flashbacks of her wife's last night alive out of her head as she surveyed the bloody scene. Zelda was unconscious, covered in her own blood, the rich red liquid still oozing from her injured hand. It looked like it had slowed considerably, which was a terrible sign. 

"Oh Satan, no," Mary groaned as the tears burned at her eyes. She ignored them as she reached for a fresh kitchen towel in the drawer and knelt beside the redhead, making quick work of wrapping her hand as tightly as she could. She needed a tourniquet. As quickly as she had sat down Mary was back up, frantically searching her drawers for something she could wrap around Zelda's arm. Finally she found a thin enough dish cloth; it wasn't perfect but it would have to do. She grabbed an old wooden spoon out of the canister by the stove and sat back down, grabbing Zelda's forearm to rest it in her lap. "Here does nothing," she sighed as she wrapped the old cotton cloth a couple of inches above the woman's wrist, slipped the spoon through the loop, and began to turn it until it cut off Zelda's blood supply. Mary was so panicked it was all she could think to do for the moment. 

As the bleeding slowed more, Mary did her best to close her eyes and concentrate. Should she do a protection spell? A healing spell? A please don't die on me before your sister gets here spell? Latin poured out of her mouth in chants and prayers that made no sense, but at least she was saying something. She kept one hand on Zelda's arm; she didn't want to break physical contact with the woman as they waited for help to arrive. Mary felt her stomach churn as she watched the blood staining her wood floors. She'd seen that before, on the floor of the desecrated church back home in Connecticut. Last time it was Catherine's blood; sticky and warm and dark as it seeped into the floorboards to stay forever, an unholy mark of a horrific night. Mary couldn't let tonight turn into another one. 

"Don't die," she whispered as she stared down at Zelda, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest as she dared to speak, "just don't die ok, just stay with me.... Hilda will be here in a minute and it will be alright, just don't go anywhere, Zelda, please."

After what felt like hours, Hilda came bursting through the front door, bag of herbs and concoctions in hand. "Mary- MARY- where is my sis-" Hilda's words got lost on the top of her tongue as she rounded the corner of the island to see the two women together on the floor in silence. 

This was fixable. Zelda was in one piece. If worse came to worst Hilda could put her in the Cain pit.... but it didn't lessen the shock of seeing her normally unbeatable, larger-than-life older sister so small and pale. "What in Satan's name happened, Mary?" Hilda questioned as she got to work, sitting beside the clearly traumatized woman and spreading her salves and herbs and candles about across the floor. 

"I'm- there was someone here, it was horrible. I nearly hit her on the way home and, then Zelda, she stabbed her with the scissors but she was aiming for me and I-"

"Alright, alright," Zelda whispered as she put a comforting arm around the younger witch. She couldn't tell her anything useful right now; she was in shock and she made no sense at all. "Sit back. Lean against the cabinets. I'll help my sister- are you injured?"

"No," Mary managed to mutter as she reluctantly moved away from Zelda, extending her arm across her own body so she could still hold her hand as she leaned back out of the way. She could feel the wall of shock crumbling and the panic rising in her stomach. The meltdown was coming.

"Oh Mary..." Zelda sighed sweetly as she noted the trauma in the woman's eyes, "I'll have Zelda fixed yo in no time. She'll be alright, truly." Perhaps Mary didn't believe her, but she should. There was no reason Zelda wouldn't be fine. This was one of Hilda's specialties, given how many times Zelda had killed her for sport. "I need her hand, love. Hold on to.... her leg. Yea, there you go, she's right there, see?"

Mary let go of Zelda's hand and instantly reached for the hem of her sweater, desperate to maintain some sense of connection with her. If she didn't let her go, maybe she really would be fine. Hilda watched her for a moment, pondering what she might do to ease some of Mary's shock and disbelief. Whatever they'd seen must have been bad; Mary was completely unglued. She could wait to help Zelda in favor of making Mary some tea with Belladonna, but she knew the sooner she mended her older sister the sooner the other woman might calm down.

"I'm sorry," Mary muttered as Hilda whispered in Latin, rubbing a salve on her sister's hand as she spoke. It wouldn't make her quite good as new, but she'd be well on her way to healing. There was only so much Hilda could do for a physically, not magically, inflicted wound. "I didn't mean to be so unhinged. All the blood just panicked me."

Hilda could tell that Mary was trying to force a sense of calm as she let go of her sister's sweater and stood, running her hands over her thighs. "I'll get the spare room ready for Zelda to rest and uh, make some tea."

"It's alright," Hilda smiled up at her, "yes I think getting Zelda into bed will be good. She'll be too weak to move this evening, but I can collect her in the morning or, if you'd prefer, I can stay as well, love."

Mary contemplated the idea; she didn't know what that thing was or if it would come back. It had clearly targeted her, whatever it was. If it came back would she be strong enough to fight her on her own? Mary shook her head and sighed. This was not the Spellman's problem; she shouldn't be putting either of them in danger. If Zelda was too weak to move, Mary should leave. 

"Oh, I can imagine you'd want to stay with your sister wouldn't you?" Mary asked politely as she set the stainless tea kettle to boil on the stove, "why don't... I go? I think it's the most logical given this... thing... is hunting me. I don't want to put you two in more danger."

Hilda felt for the woman. None of this was her fault. "Mary... did you call Zelda and ask for her help this evening?" 

"Well I- no," Mary admitted, taken aback by the question. 

"Alright. My sister came looking to help you all on her own. She chose to come here, she chose to put herself in an unknown situation, she chose to help you despite any risk that might come to her. You are not leaving your own home on our account; besides, if that thing comes back you may need help. Zelda will stay, I will stay, and we will handle this together, love.” Hilda’s voice was firm but loving, not unlike the tone she’d used with her own family a million times. Bubbling and sweet she often was, but Hilda knew how to take charge in a crisis. 

“Alright... thank you,” Mary nodded her head as she pulled two teacups out of her cupboard, “shall we get Zelda into bed? We can put her in my room. You can have the spare room. I’ll stay up- I don’t think I could sleep if I tried.”

Hilda didn’t want Mary to give up her bed, but she figured she’d better pick her battles with the woman. “That sounds fine,” Hilda smiled, “but if you get tired I can always get in bed with my sister.”

Now with the bleeding stopped and her hand properly wrapped, Zelda lie peacefully on the kitchen floor as if she were asleep. Hilda would have to do a transference spell to move her. The woman was slight but dead weight was dead weight and neither she nor Mary were strong enough to safely carry her sister through the house to the back bedroom. Hilda got to work immediately, ignoring Mary as she buzzed about the kitchen finishing the tea. The brunette was a ball of nervous energy; Hilda still needed to work on her next. 

After a few minutes of intense concentration Hilda had Zelda settled and resting in Mary’s bedroom and had rejoined Mary in the kitchen. “Why don’t you take just a little belladonna in your tea this evening? I think it’ll help with your nerves,” she said calmly, urging Mary to listen to her. “I’m certainly going to have some.”

“You sound like my wife,” Mary smiled softly as she filled one side of the sink with water and vinegar to work on cleaning her floors, “she was always pushing herbs in this and that.”

Hilda watched Mary, her back turned to her as she worked at the sink. The woman was still too skinny, though it did seem as though some sense of life had returned to her bones. Hilda imagined what she might have been like before her wife died; she was such a gentle soul still, how soft had she been before she saw tragedy? Had she ever seemed sad or out of sorts? Hilda thought not; Mary seemed like the type to always have a smile on her face and a cup of tea ready for anyone who came knocking at her door. She was still kind and generous, but fearful. Tragedy hadn’t hardened her, but it had scared her. 

“That can’t be such a bad thing, from what Zelda has told me your wife was quite the woman,” Hilda smiled as she brought her mug to her lips and took a short sip.

“Zelda... talks about Catherine? Zelda talks about me?” Mary asked without turning around, a jolt of nervous energy shooting straight through her abdomen. Zelda Spellman found her interesting enough to talk about? As quick as the energy had come so had the guilt. Again. Mary silently kicked herself and shook her head, disappointed that she’d asked at all. She didn’t need to know what Zelda Spellman thought of her, it did not matter. 

“She speaks of you often,” Hilda said honestly, “she seems quite taken by you and your new friendship.”

Mary’s heart dropped into her stomach at Hilda’s response. Zelda was.... taken by her? Surely that wasn’t the case; it was just a new friendship. She was far too young and unsophisticated for the likes of Zelda Spellman. Besides, she reminded herself, it didn’t matter. Catherine had been her great love. She was not entitled to any more. 

Hilda, noticing the strange silence, cleared her throat. “Are you alright, Mary?”

“Oh yes, fine,” Mary nodded as she turned to face the blonde seated at her island, “I just realized I’m covered in your sister’s blood. If you don’t mind I think I’ll go take a quick shower and change into some fresh clothes.”

“Of course,” Hilda smiled, finding the response odd, “I think I’ll get ready for bed myself, if you don’t mind.”

Mary nodded, “there are towels in the cabinet in the guest bathroom. Feel free to use anything you need. And thank you... for your help tonight.”

Hilda reached across the island to pat Mary’s hand, then stood and excused herself. Mary followed course and tiptoed into her bedroom as quietly as she could. She risked a quick glance at the redhead resting in her bed, a photo of Catherine on the table next to her, then rushed to her closet to grab her robe and escape to her bathroom. She didn’t like the feeling in her stomach. Surely this wasn’t happening.

Surely she wasn’t falling for Zelda Spellman. That could not be happening.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was painful to get through. Sorry if it’s not as good as the others!!

Mary stepped out of the steamy bathroom clad in her black, knee length terry cloth robe, her wet hair dripping down her back in ringlets. When she entered her bedroom to the sight of Zelda sitting up in her bed half awake, she jumped. 

“You’re awake...” she mumbled awkwardly, suddenly feeling very naked and very vulnerable. 

“Sort of,” Zelda muttered back, her eyes still closed as she changed positions in bed so she was lying on her side. “I feel like I was hit by a truck. Ten times.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mary sighed as she dropped her dirty clothes into the hamper at the foot of her bed and moved closer to Zelda to examine her hand and be sure it wasn’t bleeding through the bandage. 

“Ow,” Zelda hissed as Mary moved her arm, then gently sat down next to Zelda and rested her hand in her lap so she could look at it. 

“I’m sorry, I just need to see-“ Mary was cut off by Zelda hissing again and pulling her hand away, her eyes finally opening.

“That hurts,” Zelda snapped, then inhaled a little harder than she meant to as she realized Mary had just gotten out of the shower.“I- what am I doing in your bedroom?” 

Mary blushed, her cheeks turning a violent red, “Hilda put you in here... I’m uh, I just need to grab some clothes and I’ll be out.”

“What happened?” Zelda tried to remember, but she was confused. The loss of blood had gotten to her. She didn’t understand why she was at Mary’s house, much less in her bed, “don’t be ridiculous, get dressed and come sit down and tell me what happened.”

Mary quirked an eyebrow and stood, moving away from the woman in her bed. “I’ll.... be back out in a minute,” she muttered as she grabbed a clean pair of yoga pants and a loose white t shirt out of her pajama drawer. She figured anything else she owned to sleep in wouldn’t be appropriate for her company. Zelda nodded her head and closed her eyes again, taking advantage of a few more minutes of silence while she waited for Mary. She couldn’t help it; she was positively exhausted. She couldn’t get up if her life depended on it.

After a moment Mary popped her head out of the bathroom and rushed to her closet to grab a sweater. She had forgotten about putting a bra on, which made the white tshirt less than appropriate for her company, too. When she spotted Zelda with her eyes closed again she moved to her dresser and grabbed her comb, working through her still sopping ringlets. She was stalling; she didn’t really want to leave her room to let Zelda sleep. After she was done with her hair she looked around the room, then back at the woman in her bed. It felt.... oddly natural for Zelda to be there. 

Settling on the fact that the woman was asleep again, Mary tip toed to the side of her bed and reached for the lamp, flicking the switch as quietly as she could to turn it off.

“Don’t go,” Zelda muttered, her eyes still closed, “just come sit back down on the bed and tell me what happened.”

“You should be resting...” Mary protested softly as she walked around the opposite side of the bed and sat down, “we can go over what happened in the morning.”

Zelda rolled on her side to face the woman as she sat down and opened her eyes. She looked exhausted; black circles had formed under both her lids and she was more pale than Mary had ever seen anyone. Her hand was cradled against her chest; Mary wanted to reach out and touch it again but she knew she shouldn’t. 

“You seem.... shaken up,” Zelda sighed as she watched the woman in the moonlight coming in through the still bare windows, “are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” Mary reassured her as she propped herself up against the headboard, “just worried about you. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Zelda smiled as her memory started to return, “I was trying to help, not make things worse. Did that.... thing disappear?”

Mary nodded and tried not to look at the woman next to her. She hadn’t been in bed with any woman besides Catherine, really, ever. The guilt she felt was almost overwhelming; it didn’t matter if it was friendly. Mary’s feelings were suddenly more than friendly, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. 

“It did, it’s gone for now,” Mary nodded as she stared out the window, “hopefully it’s gone for good, but I don’t believe that.” Conversation with Zelda suddenly felt unnatural; forced and awkward. 

Zelda shook her head and let out a long, low yawn as she closed her eyes again. “Nor do I,” she muttered as she burrowed deeper under the covers and rested her head in the space between her pillow and Mary’s thigh. “But hopefully it won’t be back tonight.”

Mary felt like she couldn’t breathe; Zelda was far too close to her, she could feel the heat radiating off her head against her leg. “You need to sleep,” Mary said firmly as she pushed herself off the bed and stood up, creating as much space as she could between herself and Zelda. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

Zelda nodded and murmured something Mary couldn’t understand, then sunk deeper into the mattress. Mary was grateful she’d fallen back to sleep so quickly and easily. As quietly as she could, Mary snuck out of her bedroom and down the hall to the living room. She needed space away from Zelda; her thoughts were jumbled and her heart felt like it might beat out of its chest when she was near her. At least in the living room she could think. As she sat down in the couch in an exhausted heap she caught a glance of the photo she kept on the side table; the one of her and Catherine on their wedding day. Was it.... wrong to feel something for Zelda? Was Mary being unfaithful to her wife’s memory? 

Defeated, she sighed heavily and laid back against the arm of the couch, closing her eyes tightly. Maybe sleep would make things a little more clear and the morning would bring about a newfound sense of direction. It didn’t take long for Mary to drift off to sleep; she was positively exhausted. As she slept, she tossed and turned on the old leather couch, her mind caught somewhere between her thoughts and a dream. 

_ “ She seems lovely,” Catherine smiled as she sat across from Mary at the kitchen island, a glass of wine in her hand, “and protective of you. I like her.” _

_“You like her?” Mary quipped as she raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her own wine, “Catherine you’re my wife and she’s another woman, what on earth are you even talking about right now?”_

_Catherine rolled her eyes and crooked a finger to summon Mary to her. The younger woman silently obeyed, positioning herself between Catherine’s thighs at the bar. She wrapped her arms around the older woman’s neck and sighed as she pressed her forehead against her wife’s cheek. “I don’t want anyone but you. Nothing will ever be the same. I’m not interested in anyone else, I miss you.”_

_“I know you miss me,” Catherine smiled gently as she pressed a quick kiss to her wife’s lips and held her by the hips, “but you also cannot be alone for the rest of your life, Mar. You need to move on. Wouldn’t you want the same for me?”_

_“No,” Mary pouted as she looked down at her wife, “I’d want you to crawl in the coffin with me.”_

_Catherine smacked Mary playfully on her hip and shook her head, “stop it. You wouldn’t. Zelda is.... a lot like me. I like her. I like her family. I like her standing in the church. I like her devotion to Lilith. If you’re going to see someone else.... I approve of her.”_

_Mary licked her lips and pushed herself away from her wife to grab her wine glass, the disappointment apparent in her eyes, “I don’t want to discuss this. There’s nothing to discuss, actually,” she protested as she took another long sip of her wine. Falling for someone else would mean that Catherine was really gone. Mary was happy to exist in her grief, mourning her every day. It was the only thing that felt.... right. _

_“Fine,” Catherine sighed, “but it’s going to happen. I figured it would be easier for you to know that I encourage it.”_

_“Anyway,” Mary muttered pointedly, “you know what that thing was earlier. I can see it on your face. How much danger have I put the Spellmans in?”_

_“You have put no one in danger,” Catherine muttered as she played with the stem of her glass, “they’ve put you in quite a bit, however.”_

_“What do you mean?” Mary asked as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and pushed it out of her face, “how did they put me in danger?”_

_“Mary...” Catherine said seriously as she looked at her wife, so sweet and soft. Catherine knew Mary had the strength to handle what was coming, but she wasn’t convinced Mary knew it. If Lilith’s plans were true, she’d need Zelda more than she could comprehend. “You were visited tonight by Lilith. She needs to be close to Sabrina to complete the Dark Lord’s will - and you just got in her way, thanks to Zelda Spellman.”_

_Mary frowned as she took a seat next to Catherine, trying to comprehend her wife’s words. “What do you mean I got in her way? What on earth does Lilith need with Sabrina?”_

_“There’s too much to explain now,” Catherine sighed, “but Lilith had every intention of killing you and possessing your body to get close to the girl. You’re going to have to find a way to help Lilith gain access, or she will find you. And she will kill you.”_

_“Catherine you aren’t making any sense at all,” Mary protested as she frowned at the blonde opposite her, “I have no access to Sabrina, I can’t help Lilith with this. Why would she think that I could help her?”_

_“Mary,” Catherine repeated calmly, “it doesn’t matter. You have to find a way. Summon Lilith, tell her you’ll help her. It’s the only way to keep you alive. And possibly Zelda_.”

Mary rolled on her side and opened her eyes before she had a chance to respond to Catherine. The early morning light greeted her through the living room window; she’d been asleep all night. She could feel the stiffness in her neck and her joints as she lunges off the couch and toward the kitchen. She needed a pen and paper; she needed to remember as much as she could about her dream so she could tell the Spellman Sisters when they wakened. Was Sabrina in some kind of inherent danger? Mary scribbled as fast as she could, trying to get as many details as she could recall down on paper. Surely Zelda or Hilda could make some sense of this, even if it was nothing more than a silly dream had by an exhausted, emotionally spent woman. Mary hoped that was all it was. Either way, she had to tell them. As soon as possible. 


	11. Chapter 11

"I.... don't know," Zelda muttered from behind her coffee cup. She was clad in a pair of Mary's leggings and a sweater, her wet hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Hilda had long gone home to check on Sabrina and give the two women time to talk on their own, and Zelda had opted to stay and get cleaned up at Mary's cottage. Mary tried not to stare at the sight of the woman in front of her; she was normally so put together, but today she looked tired, disheveled... adorable, in Mary's opinion. "I mean, it could have been Lilith. It could've been... anything. What did Catherine say?"

"She said that it was Lilith... that she wants Sabrina. She was certain, Zelda. What could Lilith want with Sabrina?" Mary leaned across the island and stared, wondering if there were more to the story when it came to Sabrina's dark baptism.

Zelda set her coffee cup down and stared back, her eyebrows raised in a challenge. She didn't want to tell Mary what had happened with Sabrina's birth; it wasn't her business. "Not that I know of. Of course, I wasn't there for the birth. Only after she was cleaned up and brought over did I see her. I... have no idea what the dark lord, or Lilith, could want with my Sabrina."

"Zelda...." Mary sighed, then turned around to make herself another cup of coffee, "think on it. There must be something."

Zelda watched Mary carefully as she poured more coffee, studying the shape of her hips in her tight leggings and white T-shirt. The woman was by all means attractive; Zelda could even see the outline of her well toned calf muscles. How had Mary stayed in such phenomenal shape? Zelda didn't consider herself out of shape at all, but Mary looked like an athlete. As Mary turned back around Zelda averted her eyes and pretended to focus on the cup in front of her.

"I'll think about it, but I really can't imagine what it could be. Sabrina... pledged herself to the dark lord in her baptism and... well that's it." Zelda hoped that Mary couldn't tell she was lying.

Mary nodded to appease the other woman and sat down at the island with her new cup of coffee, their knees nearly touching. "How is your hand? We need to change the bandage," Mary said softly in an effort to change the subject as she reached for Zelda's hand.

Zelda winced as Mary took her it and unwrapped it gently, careful not to jostle her too much. As the bandage fell to the counter Mary examined the wound more closely and sighed, wishing Zelda hadn't been the one to be injured.

"Stop looking at it, its ugly," Zelda laughed despite herself, pulling her hand away so Mary couldn't stare at it anymore.

"You got stabbed in the hand with a pair of scissors and you're worried about how it looks?" Mary shook her head and smiled as she reached for the new bandage and took her hand back, wrapping it slowly and carefully. "You're insane, Zelda Spellman."

"You're not the first to tell me that," Zelda smirked, then examined her hand with the new bandage on it, "so what are we going to do about Lilith?"

"I......." Mary hesitated as she contemplated the idea, "I guess we summon her? I don't want to do that without knowing what she wants with Sabrina, but I feel like we may not have another option."

"If we do that, we should do it at the academy, where we can have reinforcements if we need them," Zelda thought out loud as she finished her coffee and set the cup back down on the island, "I think it's wiser to do it there than in either of our homes, alone."

"Am I allowed to be at the academy?" Mary asked honestly, "with my having walked away... I don't know if I would be welcome."

"You're welcome if I say you're welcome," Zelda snapped, then softened, "it'll be alright. We'll do it in my office. Tonight at the witching hour."

"Are you going to be strong enough? You should rest another day, Zelda," Mary responded immediately, "do you want another cup of coffee?"

Zelda smiled to herself as she registered the worry in the younger woman's voice. It had been a long time since anyone simply cared for Zelda. "I'll be fine, and yes I would like another cup of coffee."

Mary moved silently around the kitchen, fixing Zelda another cup exactly the way she liked it. There was a familiarity to her actions; she used to do the same for Catherine on mornings when she stayed home. Mary liked having someone to care for; someone to stand around and talk with in the kitchen while she cooked and made coffee and lingered in the mornings. She hung on to Catherine's words as she moved around the room, trying not to feel guilty about how good it felt to have someone at home with her. Not just someone; to have Zelda at home with her.

"You're awfully quiet over there," Zelda mumbled as she looked out the window over the kitchen sink, watching the birds fly around a small branch, "are you alright?"

"I am," Mary said nervously, "just uh... thinking."

"Thinking?" Zelda asked, curious about what had gotten Mary so riled up so quickly, "about what?"

"That it's nice to have someone here in the morning," Mary flashed a brilliant smile as she set a new cup of coffee down in front of the redhead, hoping she wasn't making a fool of herself, "I enjoy your company, Zelda. A lot."

Zelda felt the flush in her chest as she registered what Mary said. She enjoyed the woman's company, too, but she wasn't sure she was ready to admit it. Not to mention, was Mary ready? Her wife hadn't died all that long ago. "I uh... I enjoy yours as well, Mary," Zelda almost stuttered, caught off guard. Sex she could do, but feelings? Those were typically out of her realm.

"So.... great," Mary smiled awkwardly, unsure of where to take the conversation from there, "I uh... well. Are you hungry? I could make breakfast. You must be famished; you need something to eat to help you get better. No food isn't good for you recovering, especially since you lost all that-"

Mary's sudden rant was cut short by the sound of Zelda's laughter across the island. "Satan, you talk a lot when your nervous," she laughed again, shaking her head as Mary started at her with wide eyes. "Breakfast sounds lovely."

"Ok.... great," Mary smiled, trying not to talk too much. She was nervous. Had Zelda gotten her point? Did she say it back? Or was it just friendly? Mary felt like she was suddenly under water, trying desperately to come up for air but she couldn't reach the surface. Was she really doing this? She shook her head silently as she pulled pots and pans out of the cupboard, preparing to make breakfast. Maybe she could play it off, pretend like it hadn't happened. Zelda, on the other hand, sat with a knowing smirk on her face. Mary had just given her permission and the upper hand all at once; what a fun game this would be.

"But if you make me breakfast now, I have to take you out for dinner to repay you," Zelda smiled behind her coffee cup, one eyebrow raised mischievously. "It's only fair."

"Oh Zelda you don't have to do that," Mary protested as she looked up from the stove, "it's the least I can do after what you went through last night."

Zelda rolled her eyes and hopped off the bar stool, moving closer to Mary as she watched her cook. Before Mary could move Zelda was behind her, her body practically pressed in to hers as she leaned over her shoulder to see what was on the menu. "But it would be my pleasure," Zelda purred in her ear, her breath hot on Mary's neck.

"Zelda," Mary murmured as she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sensations happening in her body, "I.... alright." Mary wanted to turn to face her, but she was paralyzed, cemented to her spot in front of the stove. She knew Zelda was toying with her. What was worse was that she liked it.

"Good, I'm so glad that's settled," Zelda smirked as she backed off the younger woman and returned to her coffee, more than a little riled up herself. "We can go to dinner tomorrow evening."

"So soon?" Mary asked quietly as she finished the eggs in the skillet and divided them on to two plates. She wasn't sure she was ready for what Zelda had in mind, if she was listening to her head. If she listened to her body, that was another story.

“Tomorrow night isn’t so soon... we have at least,” Zelda took a moment to count in her head, “five meals and six snacks between now and then.”

Mary laughed out loud despite herself and set a plate in front of Zelda, “fine, tomorrow night. Have it your way.”

“Oh, I will,” Zelda smirked as she took a bite of toast, “and you’ll enjoy it.”

“Will I?” Mary grinned as she sat down next to the woman, feeling a little less inhibited. This was what Catherine wanted for her, right? And she did genuinely enjoy Zelda for Zelda. “How can you be so sure?”

Zelda looked to her side and shrugged her shoulders, the smirk still plastered on her face. “I’ve yet to receive any complaints.”

Mary shook her head again, this time feeling encouraged. Maybe dinner with Zelda was exactly what she needed.


	12. Chapter 12

Zelda took both of Mary's hands in hers and closed her eyes as an array of candles burned around them in her office, a perfect setting for Lilith to show her face. Mary nervously obliged and bit her bottom lip, trying to hide just how frayed her nerves really were. She had no idea what they would say to Lilith when she arrived, if she did. Last time Lilith had tried to kill both Zelda and her; she wasn't sure this was the wisest idea they'd ever had.

"Concentrate, Mary," Zelda chided as she adjusted herself on the floor, "she won't hurt you here. She is still our Goddess."

Mary nodded and closed her eyes, equally nervous for the fact that Zelda had a tight grip on her. She hadn't imagined this would be the way they first held hands. "I'm trying, I'm... I'm trying," was all she could muster as Zelda began a chant in Latin under her breath.

Mary soon followed suit, parroting the words coming out of the redhead's mouth in hopes that Lilith would be listening. After what felt like hours, all the candles in the room extinguished at once, leaving them in the pitch dark. Mary instinctively jerked her hands away from Zelda, but she clasped them tighter and pulled the woman towards her.

"Bold of you two to call on me again," Lilith muttered in the dark, a low and wicked tone reverberating off the walls, "did you not get enough the first time?"

Zelda bowed quickly and placed a hand on Mary's back, pushing her into the subservient position, too. "Lilith, mother of demons, queen of hell, we want to help you with Sabrina."

Mary marveled at how calm and collected Zelda sounded; she felt like she was ready to come undone at the seams.

"Help me? Last night you tried to banish me you foolish woman, why should I believe that you want to help me?" Lilith stepped closer to the women on the floor, her feet nearly touching the tips of Zelda's fingers as she loomed over her.

"We didn't know it was you - I- my queen, please," Zelda groveled, "your will is our command. If it is time to deliver Sabrina to the Dark Lord so be it. I want to help you. Mary wants to help you."

"Get up," Lilith commanded as she moved towards Zelda's desk and flipped on a light, "I'm intrigued by your change of heart, Sister Spellman. I know what the girl means to you, I didn't expect you to give up your own kind so easily."

"She belongs to the Dark Lord first," Zelda admitted, trying to hide the worry in her voice as she stood to meet her queen eye to eye. "I will not stand in the way of his will, or yours."

"Smart woman," Lilith laughed as she looked Zelda up and down, then turned her attention to Mary. "I need you," she stared at the brunette, "Sabrina trusts you. She looks up to you. She will listen to you. You must follow my every command, do you understand?"

"Yes, my- yes," Mary struggled to call Lilith her queen. She struggled to be reverent to anything that had to do with hell, the very place that had stolen her beloved Catherine from her. She would obey the woman because she wanted to stay alive, not because she wanted to serve her.

"I can hear your thoughts, you know," Lilith chided as she stepped closer to Mary and pushed a stray curl away from her face, "I know you blame me for your beloved. I didn't do that, Mary."

Mary was shaken by the sudden softness in Lilith's voice. She wanted to tell her not to speak about Catherine; she wanted to rip her throat out with her bare hands. How dare this woman speak about her wife.

"You may blame me all you want, but I didn't condone it. The Dark Lord didn't even condone that, Mary. It was your church; your silly, broken high priest who did that. If you want to kill anyone, go find him and kill him."

"Please," Mary mumbled as she held back tears, "please don't speak of her."

"Catherine was devoted to me," Lilith continued as she used her index finger to lift Mary's chin so she was looking at her, "do you honestly think I would condone the destruction of one of my most devoted subjects?"

The insult was apparent on Lilith's face; she seemed as disgusted by the possibility as was Mary. She felt a strange flutter in her heart as Mary stared back at her, tears threatening to fall from her eyelids. How broken had this woman become?

"No, my queen," Mary swallowed hard and bit back the sob that was threatening to escape. When she thought about making amends, this wasn't quite what she had in mind. "No, I don't, but it happened nonetheless and no one stopped it."

"We cannot stop free will, Mary, it isn't in our make up," Lilith said seriously, a new wave of anger hitting her square in the stomach, "if we take the free will of our followers, we are no better than the false god. What happened was a pit fall of humanity, not of your Gods."

Mary nodded silently and leaned against Zelda's desk; the conversation had already made her weak in the knees. She wanted to rail against Lilith, to beat her until she was black and blue and tear her limb from limb like the parishioners had done her wife. She had no words of forgiveness to give the woman; she had no forgiveness for anyone.

"Mary," Lilith said softly, "you must learn to let Catherine go so that you can remember the good in her. Reliving that night is only bringing torture on yourself. I don't want that any more than I wanted Catherine's death."

Zelda held her breath as she watched their interaction; this was not at all the conversation she'd imagined having. Silently, Zelda reached out for Mary's hand and squeezed it gently, reminding her that she was not alone. It was all Zelda could think to do at the moment.

"Now, Sabrina," Lilith sighed as she changed the subject, "Zelda you know that Sabrina must be delivered unto the Dark Lord. You know that she must sign her name in the book of the beast. She belongs to him. As his sire, he will not take no for an answer when it comes to Sabrina. You've no choice in the matter and neither does the girl."

It was Zelda's turn to feel as though she'd been punched in the gut. She was hoping they could leave that part out; that she wouldn't have to explain to Mary what had happened in her family sixteen years ago. Now it was too late.

"I'm aware of that fact, yes," Zelda sighed as she let go of Mary's hand and crossed her arms over her chest, "I've done everything I can to try and convince her. She simply will not listen."

"That's why we need Mary," Lilith chimed back, "if we put your dear Mary in a position of authority over Sabrina, she will listen. Mary will be able to persuade her to do things you cannot."

"So... what would you have me do?" Mary asked seriously, the concern evident in her tone.

"You need a new job," Lilith grinned a wicked grin, her jet black hair falling in long, loose curls over her shoulders and down to her waist, "you'll be the new history teacher at Baxter High. Mentor her. Guide her into doing the things I tell you she must do. Obey me, or I'll kill you and do it myself. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but the current teacher?-"

"The current teacher has already been taken care of," the demoness smirked, "all you need to do is show up for the interview tomorrow. You'll have the job, and then our work begins."

Before Mary and Zelda could respond Lilith disappeared as if she'd evaporated in to thin air. Mary and Zelda looked at each other, holding their gaze for a long moment before Zelda cleared her throat.

"I guess we have our first... assignment?" Mary half asked as she stood with her mouth hanging partially open. She still felt like she might cry, but she was doing her best to hold it in. She could cry later at home or, better yet, skip it altogether. Mary was so sick of crying.

"Yes I think we do," Zelda sighed as she moved around her desk to flip another light on, "and now I'm out a funerary assistant."

"That's what you're worried about?" Mary laughed quietly as she took a seat opposite Zelda at the desk, "we just got orders from the mother of demons to deliver your niece to Satan himself and you're worried about who's going to do next week's filing?"

"It's a legitimate concern...." Zelda shrugged her shoulders as she sunk down into the leather chair behind her desk, "besides, I got sort of used to seeing your face every day. Maybe I don't want to see anyone else's."

"Are you flirting with me, Zelda Spellman?" Mary laughed as she finally pressed the tears out of her eyelids and brushed them off her cheeks, "right now?"

"Only if you want me to be," Zelda smiled as she moved closer to the woman and took her hand again, "but if not then, no, of course not."

Mary rolled her eyes as she stepped closer to Zelda. The woman, for as hard as she usually was, could be so soft and sweet, almost to the point of shy, when she wanted to be. "I think.... that I want you to be," Mary smiled as she took another step closer, both their hands now entwined at their sides.

"Oh, good," Zelda smiled back as she took one final step in to close the space between them. It took a moment, but Zelda found courage enough to lean forward and brush Mary's lips with hers, leaving just the slightest impression of a kiss on her mouth.

"I wouldn't be upset if you did that again either," Mary muttered back as she found herself searching for Zelda's lips again. She ignored the guilt bubbling up to the top of her abdomen and parted her lips to deepen their kiss, Zelda's tongue quickly finding its way inside her mouth. Mary let go of Zelda's hands so she could tangle one in her hair, bringing them closer together as their lips collided again and again.

Breathless after a few minutes, Zelda finally pulled away and panted softly as she rested her forehead against Mary's. It was her turn to feel like her heart might beat out of her chest. "Are you alright?" She asked seriously as she wrapped her arms around Mary's waist and held her close.

"You know," Mary smiled, making no moves to distance herself from Zelda's embrace, "I am alright. A lot more alright than I thought I would be, and it's because of you."

Zelda closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence between them. If she was being honest she felt a little weird about how natural it felt to be with Mary; she'd thought at first that it would take years to get to this point, if they ever even did. Now, lo and behold, she had Mary Wardwell in her arms practically confessing her affection for her. "I promise to always try to make you feel more than alright," Zelda said softly as she kissed Mary's temple, then let her go.

Mary searched Zelda’s face, looking for any sign of doubt or regret. How could Zelda Spellman honestly be interested in her? When she didn’t find what she was looking for she smiled and leaned in to rest her head on Zelda’s shoulder, content in her embrace. She wasn’t Catherine; she would never be Catherine and Mary didn’t want her to try. “Maybe we should move that dinner date from tomorrow to tonight?”

Zelda’s expression fell as she thought about the possibility of having dinner with Mary, of keeping her by her side a little bit longer. “I can’t. Family dinner; Hilda gets deeply upset when I skip them. I think they’re... silly,” Zelda lied to hide her affection for her family, “but we’ve done it for Sabrina since she was small.”

“Oh, of course,” Mary nodded as she let go of the woman in front of her and reached for her bag, trying not to feel rejected, “that sounds like a lovely evening. We can still do dinner tomorrow.”

Zelda smiled as she caught Mary by the arm and pulled the woman back in to her, “why don’t you join us? Sabrina loves seeing you, and you need to eat, too.”

“I.....” Mary hesitated, not wanting to intrude.

“Don’t say no,” Zelda smiled as she took Mary by the arm and lead her out of her office, locking the door behind them, “just meet me at the house and enjoy the evening. No second thoughts, just a nice dinner.”

Mary cocked her head to the side to look at Zelda and grinned. She could be persuasive when she wanted to be. She could also be incredibly soft; a quality Mary had first not recognized in her. “If you insist,” she said happily, following Zelda out of the academy.

“I do insist,” Zelda smiled back as she nodded her head, then planted one more kiss on the side of Mary’s mouth, “I absolutely insist.”

With that, Zelda left Mary standing on the steps of the academy as she headed to her own car to drive back home to the mortuary. Mary watched her go, her head spinning with possibilities.


	13. Chapter 13

_Zelda stared in awe at the blonde woman sitting in the front pew of the desecrated church, her hair flowing down her back in relaxed curls as she looked ahead, contemplating her words before she spoke. She had the bluest eyes Zelda had ever seen, deep cerulean pools even more rich than Mary’s._

_“Catherine?” Zelda finally whispered, breaking the silence that hung in the air between them. She felt the same cold presence surround her that she felt two nights ago in her own home, when she knew something was wrong with Mary. Could this really be her wife, sitting before her, expecting some kind of answer?_

_“Yes, Zelda, I’m Catherine,” the woman smiled, flashing her brilliant white teeth as she nodded her head. “I see you’ve... taken a liking to my Mary.”_

_“Yes,” Zelda replied simply, refusing to apologize for something she didn’t see as wrong. Catherine was dead, it wasn’t as if she was making the younger woman cheat on her. Zelda bit her lip in an effort to keep a strong resolve as her stomach turned over in her body. For all of her exploits, she’d never had a dead lover pay her a visit._

_“I’m glad,” Catherine smiled again as she watched the redhead approach her, standing between the front pew and the altar, “Mary needs someone like you. Someone strong and soft who will care for her.”_

_“I-“ Zelda began, then cut herself off. Her feelings were still a jumbled mess inside of her; how could she possibly explain them to someone else? “I... appreciate that sentiment, Catherine.”_

_“She’s going to need you, Zelda, in the coming months. What Lilith has in mind for our Mary will not be pleasant. For her, for you, especially not for your niece.” Catherine patted the hard wooden pew beside her to motion for Zelda to sit. Zelda followed her command and joined her, her back board stiff as she studied the woman- the apparition- more closely._

_“What do you mean by that? We’ve agreed to help Lilith, but I’ll not have my niece in harm’s way,” Zelda protested passionately at the thought of Sabrina in danger. She had registered that Catherine had called Mary theirs, but she wasn’t ready to process that just yet._

_“You’ll need to stay one step ahead of Lilith. Look into the apocalypse.... you’ll find everything you need in the scriptures,” Catherine explained calmly, “Lilith can be turned, but you’ll have to outsmart her first if you want to keep your family alive.”_

_“Keep my family...” Zelda muttered under her breath. This was too much; clearly this was just a bad dream. She simply needed to wake herself up. “Is Mary included in that?”_

_“She will be if you aren’t careful. Now is not the time to fall lovesick and stupid, Zelda,” Catherine warned as she placed a loving arm on her shoulder, “I am older than you, and was once a remarkably powerful witch. Mary could have that power too, but you’ll have to trust her. Don’t get in your own way trying to protect her. Stay devout, shrewd, pious. Commit yourself to the readings and you’ll have the answers you need to make it out of this with Sabrina and Mary, and maybe even more than you imagined with Lilith.”_

_Zelda shook her head, refusing to comprehend what Catherine was saying. Was she telling her... not to fall for Mary? To leave her alone? Was this some sort of sick joke played by a jealous lover?_

_As if she could read Zelda’s thoughts, Catherine shook her head and laughed, “no, don’t distance yourself from Mary. Just stop trying to play the hep you’ve always been. Trust that my wife- your... lover- is as capable as you.”_

Zelda turned violently on her side in bed, practically thrusting herself out of it and on to the floor as she forced her eyes open, desperately refusing sleep. She collected herself for a moment, then looked at the clock. Six thirty. It was time to get up anyway if she was going to be productive at all before she had to head to the academy for her morning classes.

Silently, she pulled herself out of bed and wrapped her long, flowered kimono around her body as she slipped her feet into her slippers. She took a quick look in the mirror and pulled the brush that had been sitting on her dresser through her hair.

Coffee. She needed coffee. Then she could deal with getting ready. As she tiptoed down the hallway and descended the stairs, careful not to wake her sleeping family members, she rejoiced in the fact that she couldn’t yet hear the sounds of her niece and cousin arguing in the kitchen. Surely Hilda would be awake, but she was easy enough to ignore.

As she rounded the bottom of the stairs she noticed the light on in the front room. “That’s odd...” she muttered as she stalked across the hallway and into the study she shared with her sister.

Zelda yelped, caught off guard by the shape of a woman bent over at the filing cabinet. Black, skirt clad backside in the air, Mary looked ridiculous as she bent herself in half to file away certificates in the bottom drawer of the old cabinet where Zelda and Hilda kept records.

“What in Satan’s name are you doing here so early?” Zelda snapped as the younger woman stood up to face her, equally caught off guard by the sight of her in her pajamas.

“I uh-“ Mary swallowed hard, her mouth gone suddenly dry at the sight of Zelda in her gold, cleavage hugging silk nightgown. Her eyes ran over lily white skin, the shape of her collar bone, the hollows of her neck as she tried to find her words. “I couldn’t sleep and Hilda said I could get to work early this morning so I could finish a few things before I went to Baxter High to fake my way into that ridiculous teaching position. I’m sorry if I startled you, I didn’t mean to-“

“Mary,” Zelda smiled softly as she recognized the woman’s nervous babbling, “it’s perfectly alright.” Zelda wanted to be annoyed by her incessant talking, but somehow Mary made it endearing. The sound of her voice wafting through the empty house felt like... home. “I just wasn’t expecting you so early in the morning is all.”

Zelda let her eyes skim over the shape of Mary in her tight pencil skirt and button up cardigan, then remembered her dream and shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “I uh, I was going to make coffee. Would you like some?”

“Sure,” Mary smiled as she set the filing down on Zelda’s desk and followed the woman out of the room, “but I can grab a cup and go back to work so I don’t bother your morning.”

“Nonsense,” Zelda huffed as she made her way down the hall and into the kitchen. She was surprised when Hilda was absent from the stove; normally the woman would have been up for an hour already preparing the family’s breakfast. Zelda wasn’t complaining; any chance to be alone with Mary was one she would take.

“Thank you,” Mary muttered quietly as she took a seat at the table and watched Zelda make the coffee, not taking her own seat until she had two steaming cups in her hand.

Zelda sat and took a long sip of the black liquid, contemplating whether or not she should tell Mary about her dream. It felt natural to tell Mary almost anything, but she didn’t want to insult the woman. Instead, she turned to her and asked “how old was Catherine when she died?”

“Uhhhh......” Mary had to think about it; when one was several centuries old age mattered much less, “741. I believe.”

“Ah,” Zelda nodded. So the woman did have nearly one hundred years experience on her. Perhaps that was why she was still so powerful, “and she was a deeply practiced witch?”

“Very much so,” Mary nodded as she brought her cup to her lips, “Catherine was remarkably devout in her faith. She taught the most advanced divination and necromancy courses at the academy. She was a senior instructor and a well respected professor. Why?”

“I was just... wondering,” Zelda forced a smile as she rested her hands on the table, “I want to know more about her. I don’t.... believe that you and I can continue to get close without recognizing Catherine’s importance. I know how much she meant to you, and I want you to feel that you can speak about her openly, whenever you want. I enjoy hearing about the things that have brought you such happiness.”

Mary blinked her eyelids rapidly in an attempt to hold back her tears. That certainly hadn’t been what she was expecting to come out of Zelda. After a moment, she reached for the redhead’s hand and placed a gentle kiss on her palm. “Thank you. Really, thank you,” she smiled as she intertwined her fingers with Zelda’s, content to hold her hand.

“Of course,” Zelda whispered hoarsely and disguised her own emotions behind her coffee cup. She didn’t care for the fact that Mary made her so... soft.“I’ve got to get dressed,” she announced suddenly as she stood and backed away from the table, releasing Mary’s hand. “Feel free to sit and relax as long as you’d like. The filing can get done later.”

Mary watched her, the confusion apparent in her eyes as Zelda backed away from her. Equally surprising was the fact that Zelda placed a rough kiss on the top of her head before she fled the room, leaving Mary alone with their coffee cups.

“Strange woman,” Mary sighed as she took another sip and sat alone at the Spellman table, wondering what on earth was going through Zelda’s head as she retreated.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry in advance.

Mary sat in front of her fireplace, the flames illuminating her back as she concentrated on the tarot cards laid out in front of her. It had been a long, weird week since she'd gotten the job at Baxter High. Gone suddenly were the lingering mornings with Zelda where they sipped coffee and caught up. Gone, actually, was any kind of conversation with Zelda. The woman had gone completely MIA on her. 

As she laid another card down she sighed, unhappy with the reading. Maybe she wasn't concentrating well enough. Frustrated, she pushed the cards aside and closed her eyes as she rested her hands on her crossed knees and rolled her neck. She could feel the tension gathered in the base of her spine, pinching itself into a headache in the back of her head. The new job was killing her; she hated it. For the most part the kids didn't care about their lessons, no one wanted to be in class, the school was gloomy, the principal was a dreadful nightmare, and Lilith hadn't shown her face at all to give her further instruction on why in hell she was there in the first place. All in all it had proven to be a waste of time, except for creating distance between her and Zelda.

As if she had conjured the woman with a spell, there was a sharp knock on Mary's door, then Zelda entered without waiting for permission. 

"Mary," she gasped as she pulled the leopard print scarf off her head. It had done little to protect her hair from the rain outside; her hair was soaked through and hanging around her face in what looked like might dry as loose waves. Mary found herself distracted by the sight of Zelda, soaking wet in the middle of her living room. "Mary, Lilith appeared again, while I was praying in the desecrated church."

"Oh," Mary muttered as she scrambled to stand up, aware at how very little the green and black robe she was wearing covered her. She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at the woman, waiting for some kind of explanation. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed that Lilith had appeared to Zelda; wasn't Mary supposed to be her main pawn in this little game with Sabrina? And where had Zelda been for over a week?

"She- are you alright?" Zelda asked as she eyed Mary up and down, taking notice of the robe, too. "You seem.... bothered."

"I'm fine," Mary snapped as she stayed rooted to the spot in front of the fire, not daring to go any closer to Zelda. "What message did Lilith come bearing this time?"

"There is to be an exorcism," Zelda sighed, "I don't like it. At all. But if Sabrina is to survive this, we must help her."

Mary rolled her eyes and shook her head as she dragged a hand through her long, perfect curls. The adjustment in her position allowed Zelda to see just how low cut the V of her robe was. Zelda swallowed hard as she tried not to stare. "Witches do not perform exorcisms, that's ridiculous. Clearly the queen of hell has lost her mind," Mary chided in disgust, though whether it was for Lilith or Zelda she was unsure. She had to admit she was disappointed by how easily Zelda was willing to give in to the ministrations of Lilith's silver tongue. Was the woman wooed so easily? "This is complete nonsense, Zelda."

“I know, I know,” Zelda sighed as pulled a book from the bag at her side, “I know it seems that way but I think she’s serious Mary.” Zelda handed Mary the book, a leather marker sticking out the top, “I don’t want to bother you by making you read all night but look in to what I’ve marked as soon as you have a chance. Cath- uh....I was.... guided, ill say, to look in to signs of the apocalypse. An exorcism is one of them.” 

Mary’s head snapped up from the book as she soon as she heard the beginning of her wife’s name on Zelda’s tongue. Was  that  why she had been so distant? “What about Catherine, Zelda? What happened?” 

“Nothing,” Zelda said quietly as she wrung her hands against her thigh, trying to appear still confident and in control, “I didn’t say anything about Catherine.”

“Do not lie to me,” Mary warned as she stepped closer to the woman in front of her, the tension suddenly thick in the air. She could tolerate a lot, but not when it came to Catherine, “I heard you start to say her name. Now tell me why.”

Zelda felt her nerves prick at the challenge. So far, she wasn’t accustomed to Mary being assertive; she wasn’t convinced the woman had it in her. Mary was always so soft, this side was new and a little unnerving. “She... appeared to me. In the desecrated church. It was nothing Mary, honestly,” Zelda scoffed as she flipped her hair out of her face and held her stance, refusing to be intimidated once again. 

“Nothing? You think it was nothing?” Mary snapped as she took another step, her hands now on her hips, “the three of you think you can use me as your pawn don’t you? Lilith forces my hand and I’ve got to change my whole life in an instant, Catherine is gone but suddenly your best friend and you think you can waltz in and out whenever you please like I’m something to be toyed with and you have the nerve to stand in front of me and say it’s nothing?” 

Zelda felt the air in the cottage rumble with Mary’s emotions, the door locking on its own behind her. She had to give the woman credit; she was more powerful than Zelda knew. She stared at the woman in front of her, torn between arousal and agitation, unsure of what to do next. It had been a long time since Zelda Spellman had crossed anyone who could match her own temper. “Mary calm down,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes, refusing to repent. Two could play this game. “I have no control over what your late wife does and doesn’t do, and telephones and doorways work both ways.”

Mary closed her eyes for a moment and when she looked back up at Zelda they were a deep, rich blue, illuminated by the anger she felt. “Sating your insecurity is not my responsibility,” she shot back, “I’m not the one who can’t seem to make up my mind here, Zelda.” Mary was now dangerously close to the redhead; all she had to do was put her hands in front of her and she’d be touching her waist. 

Zelda breathed in a little harder as she registered just how close Mary was but made no effort to back away. “Make up my mind?” She laughed under her breath, then reached her arm out to pull Mary in by the back of her head. “I’ve made up my mind Miss Wardwell,” she groaned as she pressed her lips to Mary’s, any softness she once had now gone. Mary hesitated for a moment, but gave into the kiss and parted her lips to grant Zelda better access. Before she could stop it, Zelda’s hands were diving down the front of her robe, tearing it from her shoulders to expose her chest.

Mary felt the anger rise in her chest; she didn’t want Zelda to win, to express her dominance and think she could get whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. Mary flashed a dangerous glare at the redhead as she pushed her away and fixed her robe, then dove back in after her, tugging viciously at the buttons on the front of Zelda’s vintage dress. “Could have fooled me this week,” she mumbled as she attacked Zelda’s neck with her tongue, pushing the dress off the woman’s shoulders to reveal a matching set of black lace lingerie, complete with garter belt. 

Mary didn’t look down; she didn’t want to be distracted by the sight and give Zelda an upper hand in their battle. Instead she dropped a hand to the waistline of her panties, her hand sliding beneath the smooth lace that graced Zelda’s milky white skin. Zelda gasped as she felt Mary’s fingers connect with her core, slipping easily through her folds to find her center. Mary kissed her hard on the lips to shut her up; she wasn’t in the mood to hear any more explanations or, even, pleas out of the woman.

Zelda closed her eyes and allowed Mary to back her into the couch, her knees folding beneath her as they made contact with the aged leather. So this was how she went down; silenced in the middle of the school teacher’s living room. Mary’s sudden dominance only aroused her more. She liked a woman who could meet her match for match. “Mary,” she grumbled breathlessly, her own mouth now a forgotten conquest as Mary got on her knees and kissed across her thighs, her garters coming unsnapped in her expert hands. 

“Shut UP,” Mary snapped from between her thighs as she dragged her panties down her hips, Zelda instantly pressing herself up on her legs so Mary could get them off. “I’m done talking right now,” she groaned as she trailed her tongue up her inner thigh and pressed her nose to the crease where her leg met her hip, taking in Zelda’s divine scent. She was glad she was already on her knees; she felt a little weak at the thought of finally,  finally  being close to Zelda the way she really wanted to be. 

With a tortuously slow pace, Mary licked her lips and pressed her mouth to Zelda’s center, ghosting the tip of her tongue over her throbbing cunt. “Fu-“ Zelda sighed as she threw her head back against the couch and duh her nails into Mary’s shoulder’s. So Mary had won this round; Zelda wound gladly give in if it meant the woman in front of her wouldn’t stop her deliciously dirty ministrations with her tongue. “I—“ Zelda tried to speak, but Mary dug her nails into her thighs and dipped her tongue inside of her, warning her to stop. If this was Mary in a bad mood, Zelda needed to make her angry more often. 

Zelda reached her hands down and grabbed Mary’s squeezing them as she woman stayed buried between her legs, refusing to look at her. Zelda wished she  would look at her; she wished she would connect with her, just for a moment. It felt amazing, but Mary felt a million miles away. Mary jerked one hand away, then ran a finger tip along the length of Zelda’s thigh before she thrusted two fingers inside of her, pushing Zelda closer to climax. “Mary,” Zelda moaned as she squeezed her hand a little harder. “Mary... look at me.”

Mary’s eyes trailed slowly up Zelda’s abdomen and met hers, a dangerous mix of lust and sadness and fear apparent in her intense stare. The look broke Zelda’s heart and made it swell with affection for the woman all at once. “Mary...” she muttered as she breathed deeply, trying to hold on so she could talk to the woman. “I-“ Mary thrusted harder and curled her fingers up, hitting Zelda in exactly the right spot to send her over the edge. Zelda closed her eyes and turned her head toward the ceiling as she gasped, coming undone around Mary’s fingers. 

Mary kept her mouth on her, riding out the orgasm with her until she calmed and opened her eyes. When Zelda lowered her head to look at her Mary looked away and sat back on her knees, folding in to herself, making herself as small as possible in the middle of her living room floor. 

“Mary...” Zelda whispered again as she dropped to her own knees on the floor and reached for the woman, wrapping her arms firmly around her. “You didn’t have to-“

“I wanted to,” Mary said seriously as she stared at the wall, not returning Mary’s embrace, “I did want to. I just...”

“It’s ok, Mary, it’s ok,” Zelda cooed as she held the woman closer, resting her forehead against Mary’s cheek, “I understand.”

“Guess I am the one who can’t make up my mind,” Mary sighed, feeling embarrassed by her own guilt, “I’m sorry.”

Zelda placed a gentle kiss on Mary’s cheek and shook her head as she leaned against the couch and pulled Mary against her, “don’t be sorry. There’s no need to make up your mind. There’s room enough for me and Catherine.”

Mary nodded silently as she rested against Zelda’s chest, torn between the guilt rising in her stomach and the deep desire to take Zelda back to her bedroom and do it all over again. 

“Why don’t we...” Zelda thought as she ran a hand up Mary’s arm, stroking it softly, “well, why don’t  I  get dressed and we can... have dinner? I’ll help you cook. Well, I’ll watch you cook. We can... talk.”

Mary laughed out loud at the prospect of Zelda cooking anything at all, but nodded her head anyway. “That sounds like a lovely plan. Do you... want some more comfortable clothes?”

“I would love some,” Zelda smiled as Mary sat up, seemingly more herself again. Zelda paused as she watched her, then pulled her back in for one more kiss before she let her go. 

As Mary walked down the hallway to her bedroom Zelda followed behind her, still a little bit shocked by what had just taken place. Perhaps Mary Wardwell truly  was her match, after all. 


End file.
